Indelible
by Aisling-Siobhan
Summary: LVHP Ginny died in the Chamber. only Harry and Tom know how it really happened. Harry can hear Tom in his head. Dumbledore sends Harry to Azkaban. Voldemort will have to find another way to get his body back. Harry is marked but whose side is he on?
1. Chamber of Death

Ok, first off, I know I said I was waiting until BLACK COMPLICATION was finished before starting a new fiction, but obviously I'm not.

Secondly, my poll seems like such a waste of time now, doesn't it? Since HUSH LITTLE BABY was the one winning, but it isn't the one I wrote.

I am really sorry, but this one is the one that I seem motivated to write. I did start the second chapter of BC, and I even did some more of it today but then I decided to make a banner of INDELIBLE and then I wanted to start the chapter. I have scenes from some of the chapters floating in my head and I really want to get them down.

I will update BC soon, and when INDELIBLE is finished, I'll do HLB… ok? Sorry, it's not very democratic, is it?

Go look at my profile page for the BANNER!

"Indelible"

**Disclaimer: ** Unfortunately, I can safely say that none of the Harry Potter franchise belongs to my person, as much as I regret that fact. If they were mine there'd be a lot more slash and angst… and pain XD and Ginny would die a horrible death… I hate HP&DH! The start of the first chapter is taken from Chapter 17 of CoS.

**Title: **Indelible; (of a mark) unable to remove or wash away; to be marked – I'm referring both to Harry's scar, and the fact that he is now seen, or marked, as a murderer.

**Summary: ** [LV/HP Ginny died in the Chamber of Secrets and only Harry and Tom know how it really happened; not to mention the fact that Harry can hear Tom in his head. Dumbledore sends Harry to Azkaban. I suppose Voldemort will have to find another way to get his body back. When he does, will Harry join him, or will he go back to those who betrayed him? He has to choose: it won't be easy for him to hide when he escapes, especially with that mark on his forehead and a pet Grim named Snuffles. AU.

**Warnings: ** Slash. LV/HP. TMR/HP. AU. Underage/Chan. Solo. Dub-consent. Mild HP/DM. Insane, Dark, Split-personality Harry. Character Death. Violence. Language. No PoA, GoF, OotP, HBP. Takes place at the end of CoS.

**Rating: ** R/NC-17 SLASH!!

**A/N: ** Evildime said they wanted to see an Azkaban fic from me, and while I desperately tried to refuse… this came to me (honestly) 5 minutes after I declined. Then I had to agree. I blame the dust bunnies under my bed; I need to Hoover.

_XXX_

_ITALICS_ – Tom talking in Harry's head.

**BOLD** – Harry talking in Harry's head.

NORMAL – either taking out loud.

_XXX_

**Words: **4,621

**Chapter 1**

**Chamber of Death**

_The Basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true. Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth. But as warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the Basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor. Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too lat. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour. _

_A patch of scarlet swam past and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. He felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers. Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be swimming. _

"_So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. _

_If this is dying, Harry thought, it's not so bad. Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound – except there was no wound. _

"_Phoenix tears," said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Healing powers… I forgot." _

_Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap – the diary. Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then_…

There was a sharp pain in Harry's hand, and he frowned as he looked down. Blood was oozing out of a long, thin cut down the palm of his right hand. The diary, as well as stained with ink, now had a long line of Harry's blood marring the edge of the pages. Suddenly his head felt too heavy, like he was very, very tired and wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and rest. His ears were ringing, a light tinkling sound, filling his head until it got louder and louder and LOUDER and Harry just had to press his hand to his ears and scream to drown out the ringing.

He was screaming so loudly that he missed the sound of Ginny Weasley waking up. She stirred and sat up with a gasp. She winced as the sound of Harry reached her ears, and hesitantly she began to crawl towards him.

He could hear someone. Telling him to be quiet, telling him to lie down and relax. Telling him to trust him, because He would take care of Harry now. "_Rest Harry, you were so brave. You must be tired_." Harry tried to protest. He stopped screaming, but the ringing was still there and he whimpered. He had to save Ginny. "_I'll take care of her. Rest Harry. Trust me Harry_." So Harry did.

"H-Harry?" She whispered, tapping her brother's best friend on the arm. "Are you ok?"

Harry felt like he was floating. He was lying, somewhere, anywhere, on a cloud and he was just floating along. But he moved his head to face the person who had just spoken. He couldn't remember who was speaking, and he couldn't really hear them – it was like static, or background noise, or listening to some one having a conversation on the phone with someone else. But he also knew, that it wasn't him who had moved his head. It couldn't have been him, because he was floating on a cloud. He felt so relaxed, and safe, and there was a small voice in the back of his mind – a familiar voice – that told him everything would be alright if he just stayed on his cloud.

"Of course, my dear Genevra, I'm absolutely marvellous." Said Harry's body. "Well, Marvolo at any rate." And Tom Riddle laughed at his own, bad, joke. Ginny clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming as her brown eyes met crimson red ones. "Now, dear Ginny. I'm not very sorry to say that I will have to kill you." Ginny gasped, and Harry's face was distorted by the coldest, evilest smirk that Tom could manage. "Oh but Ginny, I couldn't have you running back to tell anyone."

Unknown to Tom, Fawkes had already left the Chamber to inform Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was a rather manipulative man. Most of the time he liked to manipulate people into doing things to suit himself, people such as Harry. While Harry was an unwilling hero, Dumbledore was the man to lead him into position as it were. If it hadn't have been for Dumbledore, Fawkes would never have turned up and Harry would have died, and not saved Ginny. However, Dumbledore had never imagined Tom Riddle gaining possession of Harry's body.

So, while Fawkes was informing Dumbledore that it was safe to rescue the children from the Chamber and shower Harry with praise, Tom Riddle raised the wand that belonged to the trembling red haired girl sitting on the floor. With a smirk, Harry's voice screamed out, "Avada Kedavra," and in a flash of green light Ginny was dead.

Tom laughed, coldly, but it just didn't sound right when his laughed using Harry's voice.

"Harry, can you hear me?" Tom asked, folding his arms across his chest and waiting with as much patience as he could scrounge up.

"**Hello? Can you hear me? Who are you?**" Harry asked. He sat up, and suddenly his cloud was gone. Instead he was standing in a room, which looked a little like the Chamber of Secrets if it had been cleaned up recently.

Tom Riddle was standing in front of him, wearing Harry's body. And the only reason Harry knew that was Tom was because there was no one else he knew with crimson eyes, but Voldemort. And, plus, HE was Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"_Oh, Harry. Just trust me, I'll take care of you. I have to. We're sharing a body now, and there is no possible way to get rid of you, so it's paramount to keep you happy, young Harry_." Tom walked closer, and closer and suddenly Harry could move his own limbs again. His head wasn't heavy anymore.

He was standing where Tom had been, but facing the other way. Slowly he turned around, not sure about what he would see. His mouth dropped open and he cried out, as his eyes took in Ginny's lifeless body, unmoving beside the destroyed diary. "Ginny! What did you do, Riddle?" He shouted, turning around in circles, trying to find the other dark haired boy.

"_What I had to, to keep us safe, Potter_." Came the same voice that told him to relax. It was inside his head, and Harry gave a frightened gasp.

"Where are you?" He asked quietly, his voice trembling with fear. "What are you?"

"_Right now, for every day after this one, I am you_." Tom answered, and Harry could see him – in his mind, in the clean Chamber Tom had envisioned – and he was smirking, his arms crossed and twirling Harry's wand between his long, pale fingers.

Before anymore could be said, there was a loud bang – like a gunshot – and a sudden flash of light. When Harry looked closer, he realized it was fire, and he squinted as he tried to see what had caught alight. But there was nothing burning, not a column, or a pillar, or a body. Tom gasped inside of Harry's head, as Fawkes appeared. Holding onto the tail feathers was Albus Dumbledore.

"Well done, my boy, well do-" And he froze mid word, his eyes widening and lingering on Ginny's corpse. "What happened?" He whispered, looking back at Harry.

"Headmaster!" Harry gasped. "I'm so sorry, I tried to stop-" But he was cut off by the over whelming urge to go to sleep. And that voice was back, whispering quietly into his ear, "_trust me, Harry, I'll take care of this. Relax, Harry_." And Harry, even though he wanted to fight the voice, listened, and let Tom Riddle control him again.

"Headmaster! Riddle, Riddle is Voldemort! He was here!" Tom screamed, nervous and terrified and very pleased with his acting abilities. "He tried to kill me, oh Merlin, the Basilisk. I killed it, but I was poisoned. If it wasn't for Fawkes, I would have died."

"What happened to Miss Weasley, Harry?" Dumbledore gazed at the possessed boy over the top of his glasses. The ever-present twinkle in his blue eyes was gone.

"He was trying to kill me. When Fawkes was gone, I picked up the diary and I cut myself on it. He came back and he tried to kill us. He took my wand!" Tom said, sounding angry now. "He cast this spell on me, there was lots of green light, Sir but I don't know what it means. I thought, if Riddle cast it, I could cast it back, right? He grabbed Ginny and pulled her in front of him. He disappeared and I haven't been able to wake Ginny up. I don't know why she won't wake up, Sir." He sniffled, and rubbed his nose with the cuff of his dirty sleeve.

In the little, clean, make believe Chamber Harry watched, crying silent tears as Dumbledore took Ginny's wand from the floor and sighed. "I'm sorry my boy, but I have to report this."

Harry was so very confused. And when Tom screamed out, Harry got scared. Tom didn't lose his nerve; he was a Dark Lord, what did he have to be scared of?

"You'll have to be tried." Dumbledore levelled his own wand at Tom and then Tom was falling to the ground with a thump, and for just a second Harry could move his own body. But then he was asleep as well. Dumbledore floated the body along behind him, and in front of Ginny's as he took hold of Fawkes' tail feathers and together they all disappeared from the Chamber of Secrets and death.

Five minutes later, the Auror division at the Ministry of Magic had been alerted and were on their way. Likewise, the entire Weasley family was congregated outside the Headmaster's Office, muttering to their selves and crying silently. Harry was propped in one of the chairs on the other side of the Headmaster's desk, while Ginny lay across a couch that was transfigured from a handkerchief.

With a groan, Harry woke up.

As he opened his eyes, the fireplace sprang to life and men and women in pink robes flooed through and made a circle around his chair. They all had their wands pointed at him. A girl with bubblegum pink hair dropped her wand in shock when she saw his lightening bolt scar. "Harry Potter," she whispered and everyone else followed suit. Harry shifted nervously.

Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat and began to speak, to explain what Tom had told him. The doors opened while they were talking and two people entered and closed the doors behind them; blocking out the Weasley family. Lucius Malfoy looked around the room with distaste. His eyes widened as they spotted the destroyed diary, and narrowed as they settled on Harry. His lips stretched into a smirk. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, took his lime green bowler hat from his head and wrung it between his hands.

"What's the meaning of this?" He demanded.

The pink haired woman spoke. "It was an accident, Sir. The diary was charmed and a spirit came out of it and tried to kill Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley was killed instead."

"Who cast the spell, Auror Tonks?" Fudge demanded. "The one that killed the girl."

"Me, but it wasn't my fault. He made me do it." Harry spoke up. Tom smacked himself in the forehead, as he watched from their very own Chamber.

"_Don't tell him, Harry. You'll make it worse for us_." The future Dark Lord warned.

"Who made you do it?" Fudge asked, but Harry took Tom's advice and would only reply, 'it wasn't my fault'. "Azkaban Prison. Life sentence. For use of the Killing Curse." Lucius' face was split by the size of his smirk. However, it faded rather quickly as the Aurors hauled Harry to his feet, and panicked crimson eyes met his own.

"My Lord?" He whispered, but only he heard himself speak because Potter was making such a racket.

"It's not my fault. It was him! Tell them! It was you, tell them!" Harry screamed and Tom fought the boy for control. He had managed to steal the body for a brief moment, just enough for Lucius to notice, but Harry's panic had thrown him out of the mind he was trying to subdue.

Lucius cleared his throat, just as Harry was being man handled through the crowd of red heads. "Perhaps, Cornelius, Mr. Potter would be better off in St. Mungos?" It was easier to bribe the hospital staff, much easier than arranging a break out from Azkaban Prison. If that boy was really his Lord Voldemort, Lucius hoped the Minister would listen to him.

"**What is he saying? Why is he helping me?**" Harry asked. He sat on the floor of their Chamber, his legs hugged to his chest, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know what Azkaban was, but the man with the green hat had called it a prison. And he knew that being given a life sentence meant he would be there until he died. And he was so scared. He hadn't even done anything wrong.

In a moment of – some feeling Tom had never felt before – he knelt down behind the twelve-year-old and pulled him back into Tom's lap. With his arms around Harry, Tom began to rock lightly, comforting the crying child. "_Unlike the rest of those fools, Lucius knows that nothing is what it seems_."

"**So, he did support you in the other war?**" Harry looked up at him, wide-eyed and so very innocent, and Tom suddenly felt guilty for getting him into this mess. But then he pushed the feeling away; he was Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort was sorry for nothing.

"_He was a Death Eater, yes. And considering he is trying to keep us from Azkaban, I would estimate he is still a Death Eater. The name of my followers by the way_."

Since Tom began to comfort Harry, the boy's screams and struggles had calmed considerably. The Aurors had even managed to drag him into the courtyard at the front of the School by then. Fudge was still considering Lucius' words, but one look at the docile boy – a look that screamed of sanity and complete guilt, as far as the Minister was concerned – changed Fudge's mind. The boy killed someone, and it wasn't like they needed him anyway. Voldemort was never coming back.

"Azkaban. Now." He ordered and grabbed hold of a Portkey that would take him to the Ministry. Lucius cursed as the Aurors dragged his Lord outside of the anti-Apparation boundary, and disappeared with a pop. Taking the innocent boy with them.

Harry sobbed the entire boat ride towards Azkaban Island. When he caught sight of the Dementors he heard a woman screaming in his head, and he screamed along with her. But then Tom whispered to him again, and he closed his eyes and went asleep in the small bed that had appeared, floating over the large pond of water, in the Chamber of Secrets. And Tom had sat stiffly, quietly, in the small boat surrounded by Aurors and didn't pay the Dementors one scrap of attention. Unless it was to sneer at them until they flew away, disappointed in the lack of reaction.

He was dragged to one of the lower levels and thrown harshly to the floor of a dirty, barren, cold cell. The iron barred door slammed shut as the Aurors stepped out of the cell, and a key was turned, locking him in. With a wave of her wand, Aurors Tonks cast the warding charms to keep him from touching the lock on the door.

Across from him, in a similar cell, was a large black dog, curled up on a bundle of tattered clothing. "Hello," Harry whispered when Tom gave him his body back. "I thought they put down wicked dogs, not arrested them." The dog tilted its head to one side, studying him. Its eyes narrowed, then widened and it barked.

"_It is not a dog. He is an Animagus: a Wizard who can turn into an animal. And he's a Grim, not a dog, anyway_." Tom told him, crossing his arms over his chest and taking Harry's spot on the bed in the Chamber. "_At least its comfortable here_." He commented snuggling into the imaginary bed. Harry curled up on the cell floor and smiled sadly.

"I've just been informed that you are in fact a Grim, not a dog and I would like to apologize." He said, looking at the Grim, and drawing his knees closer to his body. "You must think I'm mad, talking to myself. But I'm not. There really is someone listening, but I don't think I'm allowed to tell you about him." Harry continued to talk to the black dog-like animal. The Grim stood up, and padded closer to his own door. With a sad whine, the animal began to grow; becoming taller and taller, though he remained just as skinny, until he was as tall as a grown man, and looked human too.

The man looked at the twelve-year-old through shaggy black hair, which he brushed out of his eyes with a dirty, thin and pale hand. "Harry? Harry Potter, is that you?" The man asked, his hands gripping the bars of his door to stop himself sinking to his knees in shock.

"Yes, do I know you?" Harry sat up, crawled to his own door and reached his arm out to shake the man's hand.

The man reached out and took Harry's hand in his own, but didn't shake it. Instead he held on for at least a minute, staring down at the hand in shock. Then, in a small voice, while raising his eyes to meet and lock with Harry's, he said, "I'm Sirius Black. I used to know you, a life time ago."

Harry smiled politely, but didn't pull his arm back as the other man seemed so attached to it.

Inside their Chamber, Tom woke up and borrowed Harry's eyes for a moment. When the green eyes bled to red, Sirius screamed and threw himself back into his cell, as far away from Harry's arm as possible.

"Hello, Lord Black," Tom grinned as he spoke. "I'm Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. This is your Godfather by the way, Harry."

"**I have a Godfather?**" Harry asked quietly, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Tom sat down beside him.

"_Apparently he helped me kill your parents."_ Tom snorted. _"Fudge really is an idiot, isn't he?_" Tom lay down and went back to sleep without another word. Harry smiled down at the other boy. Half of him wanted to hate Tom, but the other half of him told him to be sensible, and reasonable. They were going to have to share a body forever. Tom said there was no way to get rid of Harry, and Harry knew that Tom couldn't go back into the ruined diary. If they were to live within one another for the rest of their lives, Harry decided to be reasonable, and at least attempt to like Tom.

If Tom liked him back, that is.

When he looked back up at Sirius Black, his eyes were once again green. Sirius was cowering against the back wall of his cell, looking in horror at his Godson. "Don't mind him." Harry apologized. "I told you I was really talking to someone."

Sirius nodded slowly. He pulled himself together and hesitantly made his way to where Harry was pushing his arm forward, across the gap between the cells that was the walkway. Sirius took Harry's hand again. "What happened?"

And Harry told him everything. About the Dursley's, and first year, and second year, and the diary. About Tom, and Ginny and the paper cut on his right hand. About how he had felt tired and then how Tom was there and Ginny was dead. How Lucius Malfoy wanted him in St. Mungos but how Fudge wanted him here. He told Sirius about those horrid creatures outside, the ones that flew in ragged black cloaks, but didn't affect Tom at all. And he told Sirius how scared he was, and how he desperately didn't want to miss third year.

"You know, you can't go back right? Even if they let you out of here. Firstly, you have a criminal record now, and families would protest if they let you back into Hogwarts. Secondly, Dumbledore didn't really try to help, so I wouldn't trust him around you again. And thirdly, they probably snapped your wand. Your second wand never works as well as your first."

"They didn't." Harry said with a smile, and squeezed Sirius' hand. "They didn't snap it, because they didn't find it. Tom hid it, in the Chamber somewhere, somehow when I wasn't looking, because even I don't know where it is!"

Sirius smiled back at Harry, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. Sirius knew it wouldn't last, Harry's happiness. Eventually, the Dementors would win and his Godson would be a mere shell of himself. Dementors affect people who bad things have happened to much more than they affect happy people. And Harry had almost been killed when he was fifteen-months-old. That was a very bad thing.

"I was planning to escape this summer and find you, you know." Harry frowned. He knew it sounded selfish, but he had only just found Sirius – his Godfather, his family – he didn't want to lose the man yet. "But I suppose I'll have to stick around to keep an eye on you. And Tom." He added and Harry beamed, squeezing his hand again.

"Where are those creatures now?" Harry asked and stopped smiling.

"Outside now." He shuddered. "They spend a lot of time here during the day, the nights aren't so bad because they tend to stay outside then. There are places here where the Dementors never go; where prisoners are guarded by Unspeakables only. But not this part of the Prison. The Dementors rather like coming to visit me. But the good thing about it is that then the guards hardly ever come here. It's a win-lose situation really." Sirius gave a sad sort of half shrug.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius raised a hand. After years of listening out, he had grown used to the sounds of the low tapping of feet on the stone floors. It meant an Unspeakable was coming. Sometimes they could be worse than the Dementors.

"Hush, Harry, someone's coming. Don't tell them we spoke." And then Sirius was gone. In the cell across from Harry's was a large black dog, curled up on a pile of dirty, ragged clothing. The dog hid its head under its paw and used its teeth to drag the clothes up over its head, so to anyone looking in quickly, they would see a mop of black fur, and mistake it for Sirius' filthy hair.

Tom woke up, when Harry appeared in the Chamber and prodded him sharply. "**Someone is coming, what do I do?**"

Tom rubbed his eyes, glancing blearily at Harry, looking for all the world like a normal teenager, and not a Dark Lord or a possessing spirit. "_Lie on the floor. Leave your arm outside of the cell. And when I speak, listen_." Harry nodded and left the Chamber. He opened his green eyes and quickly lay down, his arm hanging through the bars, still reaching for Sirius or for freedom.

The Unspeakable looked down on the arm as he rounded the corner of the hallway. With a sneer, he kicked the arm and Harry drew it sharply through the bars and cradled it against his chest. He didn't particularly care that he had been kicked. He was too busy listening to Tom.

In his head, Tom was saying the cruellest things. Horrid, evil, callous things that were making Harry's eyes burn and his nose run. He bit his lip, trying to not cry but he couldn't hold in a sniffle.

"Shut up, murderer," the Unspeakable said, rapping the bars of the cell door with his wand.

Harry looked up at him as Tom finished calling him a 'worthless, unlovable, murdering Mudblood freak'. He gazed at the man in white-and-grey-stripped robes with a leather floor length jacket over it – making him look like a cross between a Concentration Camp victim, and one of the Nazi Kommandants. Harry's eyes were wide and a watery green, and when Tom told him he would kill Harry and then kill Sirius, fat tears leaked from the corner of his eyes and the Unspeakable flinched back as if struck. He turned and ran from the hallway, not even bothering to glance in on Sirius Black in the cell opposite Harry's.

Harry curled up on himself in the bed, above the lake of water, in the Chamber of Secrets.

"_I am sorry, Harry, forgive me?_" And he truly was, as shocking as it sounds.

Harry sniffed and flinched back as Tom went to run a hand through Harry's hair. "**Why?**" He mumbled into the imaginary pillow.

"_You needed to cry Harry, because it makes him feel guilt and pity. You have to seem to hate this place, fear it and loath it, because if they feel you are beginning to enjoy it, they'll move you to some place worse than this section of the Prison_." Tom pulled Harry onto his lap, and Harry curled up, his head on Tom's chest.

"**There's a worse place than this? Here, in Azkaban, I mean?**" He asked quietly. He knew there was somewhere better, where no Dementors went, Sirius had told him. But he wasn't quite willing to believe there could be anywhere worse than here.

Tom sighed, and pulled the blankets up over them. "_Much, much worse, my Young Harry_."

Harry hummed and nuzzled his face into Tom's chest. Then he sat up, quick as a flash, and in his little cell, his eyes opened. The green orbs searched Sirius' cell until they met dark blue eyes hidden beneath shaggy black fur. "Goodnight Sirius." Then he closed his eyes, briefly, before opening them to look up at Tom. "**Tom, why is it called the Chamber of Secrets? What's the secret?**"

"_It's a secret, Harry,_" Tom mumbled, already half asleep.

"**You don't know, do you?**" He accused, and nuzzled Tom's chest again.

Tom scowled and his eyes snapped open, and then narrowed in anger. "_Lord Voldemort knows everything!_" He insisted, his voice was loud enough to make Harry wince.

"**You don't know,**" he said once more. And he fell asleep on the cold floor of his barren cell in Azkaban Prison, even though, in his mind he was curled up on Tom's chest, in the large warm bed that was floating in the Chamber of Secrets over a lake of water.

Mind magic was a powerful thing.

**XXX**

Well, there's the first chapter. It was shorter than I planned, but since this story will be a lot more than five chapters, it really isn't important how long I make the chapters, is it? Although, they are planned to get longer.

Please review and let me know what you think?


	2. Black Sunday

Wow, this was a rather quick update.

I was at the Zoo this morning, so I had to wake up at 8am this morning and walk around all day! And now my little cousins are here, and they all insist I chase them around the house with a gun, TRYING to shoot them, because apparently I always miss.

**Words: **4,796

**Chapter 2**

**Black Sunday**

Ginny Weasley died on a Friday.

Harry Potter was taken to Azkaban on a Friday, but no body knew where either child went until the Sunday: except the Weasley family. There was no way Dumbledore could put off telling them. Even Rita Skeeter had foregone her usual kiss-and-tell articles. Instead, so far, she had only written 'no comment' for every question owled in to her department. Minister Fudge was, briefly, having second thoughts. After all, Harry Potter was a child. He was a Second Year; he wasn't dangerous, he couldn't cast the Killing Curse, children were weak.

Even Lucius Malfoy agreed. And Lucius had absolutely no reason to take Potter's side unless it was the utmost truth. But, Dumbledore did say Potter was a Parselmouth. Voldemort could speak Parseltongue too, couldn't he? Then Fudge began to worry that You-Know-Who had taken possession of Potter at fifteen-months-old, when the Killing Curse backfired, and the darkest Dark Lord of all time had been hiding for eleven years as the son of Lily and James Potter. Good guys, kind people, Aurors.

The Daily Prophet had printed a minor article, on page 15 in the very bottom left corner, briefly outlining the absence of both Potter and the youngest Weasley for the rest of the school year. It was the shortest article ever written about famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

_Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James, and Genevra Weasley, daughter of Molly and Arthur, will be absent for the rest of the school year for personal reasons. An accident occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but the specifics are not yet known. It is thought to be Quidditch related._

Regardless of the fact that Ginny was yet to join a Quidditch team. But, what ever helped people sleep at night. Although, it is highly likely that the general public would find some way to make themselves believe that Harry Potter was, and always had been, a Death Eater. Isn't that what they accused Sirius Black of, as well?

That Sunday following, Dumbledore made it compulsory for everyone to attend midday lunch. I suppose he thought the middle of the day was the best time to tell them. After all, if he told them in the morning, it would ruin their whole day, but if he told them before bed they might suffer nightmares and insomnia.

When all of the students were seated – minus, of course, the absent two – Dumbledore cleared his throat and stood up. Ron Weasley, who already knew the fates of his little sister and best friend, put his head in his hands and glared at the Head Table, especially at Professor Snape (because he just plain didn't like the man). Hermione Granger, the last of the Golden Trio, looked very worried and confused. Not only had Harry disappeared for the last two days, but also Ron knew and wouldn't tell her what was going on.

She had, obviously, been un-petrified by this time. Lucky for some.

"Students," Dumbledore began with his hands clasped in front of his stomach. "I regret to inform you that a serious travesty has occurred within the walls of Hogwarts, last Friday night. As you have probably noticed two of our students are missing. Young Ginny Weasley, a First Year Gryffindor, was killed in the infamous Chamber of Secrets." The entire student body, minus the Weasleys who knew, gasped out loud. The Hufflepuffs began to cry, the Ravenclaws tried to guess whodunit, the Gryffindors threw Ron and his brothers pitying looks while blaming it on the Slytherins and the Slytherins… well, they whispered to themselves, rolled their eyes and went back to eating. What was one more dead enemy anyway?

"Due to the unfortunate circumstances, Harry Potter has been expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the use of an Unforgivable. He has been sentenced to Azkaban for life." Dumbledore opened his mouth to say more, but the entire student body was already protesting – even the Slytherins.

"Bollocks!" Fred and George Weasley spat. They knew their sister was dead, but no one had told them that Harry was being blamed.

"That's shite!" Seamus Finnegan, another Gryffindor, screamed while flicking Dumbledore the bird.

A group of Slytherins were laughing at the thought of Potter casting an Unforgivable. "Rubbish," one of them hissed to another.

"Scapegoat," another hissed back, "was probably one of those doggy creatures that oaf Hagrid hides under his bed." The group laughed again.

The Hufflepuffs just plain refused to believe it. As a group they all covered their ears with their hands, and kept glancing at each other warily. The Ravenclaws began to shout over one another, each trying to work out the convoluted plotline that was sure to be hidden in Dumbledore's short speech. But as usual, Ravenclaws were making things more complicated than they were.

The fact was, Harry was in Azkaban, and Ginny was dead.

And apart from Fudge and Dumbledore, there was one other person who seemed to agree Harry deserved to be sent there. Ron Weasley snarled at his brothers, first, and then at his other friend, Hermione. "I can't believe you. He killed Ginny! Why are you defending him?" His face was an unattractive shade of red, and he was practically spitting in anger.

"Harry would never do that." Hermione hissed back, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yeah," Fred glared at his younger brother.

Fred's twin, George, glared at Ron as well. "Anyway, the Heir of Slytherin doesn't kill Purebloods, does he?"

"So it couldn't have been Harry." Fred grinned at George.

George grinned back. "Even if he is a seriously evil Wizard."

"Oh boys," Hermione huffed, "be serious. We have to find a way to prove Harry is innocent. He doesn't deserve this. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Except kill my sister!" Ron snarled, "but oh, wait, the Boy-Who-Live can get away with things like that!" Ron slammed his hand down on the table, knocking over two glasses of pumpkin juice. Seamus jumped out of his seat to avoid being covered with juice, and ended up knocking Dean Thomas over as well. The two of them glared at Ron.

"Now, now, Weasel, do you really believe the Golden Boy is capable of producing a working Avada Kedavra?" Draco Malfoy's amused drawl sounded from just behind them. Ron and Hermione turned to glare at the blond haired boy. He smirked back at them. "Personally I think the Mudblood is right, but don't tell Potter I said that. It's not like I mind that he's in Azkaban. He can be anywhere he likes as long as it's away from me."

"Then why are you defending him?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

"Defending Potter?" He laughed, and Crabbe and Goyle who walked over behind him laughed as well. "I'm defending the name of Slytherin. Wouldn't do to have a Potter considered one of us, now would it?" He laughed once more and turned away, leaving Hermione glaring after him.

Ron snarled at his retreating back. "Malfoy, I hate Malfoy! He probably had something to do with the diary!"

"What diary?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Nothing." Ron said with his hand over his mouth. "Can't tell you. Headmaster said not to."

Fred and George looked at each other before they stood, and simultaneously grabbed one of Hermione's arms each and began to drag her out of the Great Hall. Dumbledore watched them go, and the ceiling which was grey and cloudy, turned a deep, dark black and began to pour rain. When the trio were out of the Great Hall, and hidden down a corridor where there were no portraits, Fred swallowed and turned to face the bushy haired Muggleborn.

"Ginny had this diary. The one Harry found in Myrtle's bathroom."

"I remember," Hermione said.

"Well, apparently it used to belong to You-Know-Who, and it was possessing her all year. She was the one who opened the Chamber and killed Hagrid's roosters. You were right about the Basilisk, as well by the way."

"Yeah," George added, "Ron told us you guessed that part. Anyway, the diary looked like it had been stabbed a few times. Dumbledore thinks it was probably a fang or a bone from something the Basilisk ate. But, um, he found some of Harry's blood on the page."

"We don't know what it means," Fred rubbed his shoulder nervously. "He found it before he told the Aurors. It must have been important enough for him to call them. You don't think Harry did it, do you?"

"NO!" She shouted, "of course not. Not Harry!"

"No, I didn't think so either. And mum was so angry, she just kept crying, and crying. But dad just shook his head and said it wasn't possible. He said Harry was a hero, and he is you know. Why would Fudge arrest our hero? We need him."

"Unhappy the land that needs heroes." Hermione muttered, "maybe he wants to pretend that Volde-" They both shuddered. "It's just a name, boys, honestly," she huffed. "As I was saying, maybe he wants to pretend that Voldemort can't come back? That maybe we don't need Harry anymore?"

"Why is that a reason to send him to Azkaban?" Fred asked confused. "Plenty of people have been expelled for using those kind of spells in school, but because they were underage they weren't sent to Azkaban."

"Maybe Dumbledore told Fudge about the blood on the diary?" Hermione mused. "But what does it mean?" Both red heads shrugged.

It might seem strange that they were helping the person who was accused of killing their baby sister. But neither boy believed that lie. And until there was indisputable proof, they wouldn't believe it. And if Harry really was innocent, then they refused to loose a friend as well as a sibling – a friend and a pseudo-sibling. Because his parents were planning to all but adopt Harry, if Dumbledore would ever let them.

"I think I've read something about that before…" George trailed off. "We were planning a prank," he added after some time had elapsed. "To bind two people together temporarily."

"It seemed more original than swapping bodies around." Fred shrugged when Hermione glared at them in turn.

"I kind of remember. It worked best with saliva. If you spat on anyone of thing with a soul in it, you'd be taken from your body and into the other organism, unless the organism was damaged."

"What if Harry cut himself while destroying the diary, and bled on it afterwards?"

George's eyes widened. "The soul, if there was one, would leave the diary and enter Harry."

"That's perfect!" Hermione said shrilly. "Now we just tell Dumbledore you know how to reverse it, and we get Harry freed from Azkaban." She frowned. "You can reverse it, can't you?"

"Of course!"

"What do you take us for?"

"But- I sense a but."

"If you use blood the effects are permanent." Fred said hesitantly. George was rather relieved he let his brother answer the girl, because Hermione turned on Fred, not him.

"What do you mean PERMANENT?" She shrieked. "How will we help Harry?"

"He could be taught this thing, called Occlumency. It builds shields in your mind, and he can use them to stop whatever was in the diary from controlling him." She calmed down immediately.

"Great, now all we need to do is free him." The three of them frowned. They all took a seat on the dusty floor and began to desperately try and think of a way to help their friend.

_XXX_

As someone once said, brilliant minds think alike. And there was no mind more brilliant than that of Tom Riddle. The teenager smirked at Harry, watching the younger brunette wake up slowly. They were both in the large bed floating over the lake of water, in their imaginary Chamber of Secrets. It had been almost two days, and that Unspeakable hadn't come back yet. It was almost eight in the afternoon on the same Sunday and the Dementors were finally all outside.

When the last one had flown off down the corridor, Tom happily woke Harry up. Harry stretched and yawned and rolled onto his back to look up at Tom. "**You're far too happy**." He mumbled.

"_I am, and do you know why?_" The Heir of Slytherin grinned.

"**Dare I ask?**" Apparently, they had grown closer in the last two days. One couldn't blame them, of course; they were stuck together forever. Maybe it was a little like being a Siamese twin? Or a split personality, even?

"_I am happy, Harry dear, because we are doing magic today_." Tom jumped off the bed as Harry practically flew into an upright sitting position. If Tom had stayed where he had been, he probably would have been head butted.

"**Really? Are we? But how, I haven't got a wand! You haven't got a wand!**" Harry looked suddenly so crestfallen that Tom couldn't help himself. He lent forward, capturing Harry's chin with one hand, and pressed his lips quickly to the boy's check.

"_Haven't we?_" He asked with a teasing grin, letting go of Harry's chin. Between his long, pale fingers, he was twirling Harry's wand. "_My dear Harry, today I am going to teach you the basics of a most vital form of magic. Occlumency. It will help you protect your mind. I, myself, and as Lord Voldemort in later life can use the art, along with Severus Snape. And of course, Dumbledore knows this as well_."

"**You're only sixteen. You don't even know Snape yet, how do you know he can use Occlumency?**" Harry asked, frowning. He hesitantly reached out and took the wand from Tom's hand. The teenager handed it over willingly.

Tom laughed and ruffled Harry's hair. "_That, my dear, is the benefits of splitting your soul. As you know, Lord Voldemort is still alive. I believe you had a run in with him last year? Well, as we are both a small piece of the same person, we are able to share information. Not consciously, however, although the longer I am 'alive' in a sense, the more control I have. When I sleep, his memories infect my mind. I wake and I can remember wandering through a forest, cold and hungry, but remember how it feels to not be alive enough to eat or feel warmth. I am both Tom and Voldemort at once, and the feelings confuse me. In time, I will be able to communicate with him, to find out only what I wish to know, to find him. In time, he will rise again, and Lord Voldemort will free us_."

"**Why would he free me?**" Harry asked. He didn't particularly want to go with the madman that was trying to kill him, and had killed his parents. But then again he didn't want to stay in Azkaban; and he and Tom couldn't be separated. So if Tom wanted to go, and they didn't go, Harry doubted Tom would let him hear the end of it.

"_Because my dear, I am him, and you… are me, and therefore him as well_." Tom grinned and Harry's face went red with anger.

"**I'm nothing like Voldemort!**" The boy shouted, while Tom merely rolled his eyes.

"_Let us ignore this for the time. Now, clear your mind. Think of something that makes you feel safe, secluded. Somewhere you feel no one will find you. A forest perhaps, or a cave or a_-"

"**Cupboard?**" Harry interrupted.

"_Right. Anyway. Think of that place. Hide all your thoughts and memories behind trees or rocks, make sure they're all out of sight. When that's done, tell me and I'll attack your mind. You may use the wand; I can do this wandless_." Tom boasted, a broad grin on his face.

Harry closed his eyes, and sat back on the bed. He swallowed slowly and he remembered his cupboard under the stairs. That small cupboard had been his home for ten years, before he was moved to Dudley's second bedroom, and it was the only place that had ever felt like home because it was the only place he remembered living in, sleeping in, that was addressed as 'his'. He thought long and hard about his cupboard. And when he could picture it clearly in his mind, so clear it was almost like he was standing in it, or crouching because he had gotten rather tall lately. He nodded when the picture was as clear as it was going to get.

Then, one by one he began to find hiding places for his memories.

He hid all thoughts of his parents and Sirius behind huge big spider webs. He remembered the spiders in his cupboard, they had been his only friends and he always was so careful when he was peeling them off his socks and out of his hair in case he hurt them. The spiders made their way into the middle of their webs and stood guard of his parents' memories.

His memories of Hermione and Ron, and his other friends at Hogwarts, were stuffed down some dirty socks he always left lying on the floor of his cupboard. He picked his blanket up – the one that was wrapped around him when he had been left on the front steps of Number 4 – and he tucked it around his memories of Tom and the Chamber and the diary.

The last few memories he had, the ones he thought were important, the rage and the betrayal, the anger and hurt he felt at those responsible for his being in Azkaban – they were folded up real small and Harry thought really hard as he folded them into the shape of a toy horse, and left them sitting on his shelf, beside the real horse. The only toy he ever had as a child, except for a few broken toy soldiers.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Tom. He nodded once and Tom smirked. "_Legilimens!_" He cried.

Memories rushed through his mind, and Tom's both. Memories that Harry didn't think were important enough to hide. Tom caught a glimpse of Harry staring enviously at a shinny red bicycle, and then another memory of Harry wheeling that same bike home three days later. But this time the bicycle was crushed and mangled. "Harry pushed me and I fell in the road! Look what the freak did to my bike!" A fat, blond boy cried in the memory. Then the scene changed. This time, Tom was watching Harry run away from the fat boy, and then he watched as Harry seemingly apparated onto the roof, of what he assumed to be a school building. And the scene changed again.

Professor Snape putting him down in Potions.

Draco Malfoy challenging him to a duel.

And they changed, and changed but none of them were particularly important.

"_Not bad. Not bad at all for your first time. But next time Harry, you need to show me imagine you think I want to see, not because they're unimportant to you, but because you think they're the opposite of what I want. For example, if I want to know who killed the Basilisk, and you knew it had been you. You could show me a made-up memory of Severus killing the snake instead. Understand?_"

Tom was pacing as he spoke, his arms behind his back with his hands clasped. His eyes never left Harry's face. The boy was sweaty and exhausted looking, and truly he had done well for a beginner.

"_Go, talk with your Godfather. You did well, and I am pleased_." Tom sat on the bed when Harry stood up. He stretched himself out and held his hand out to the younger boy.

"**Tom, you will teach me spells too right? Third Year and beyond, since I won't be there? It can't have changed so much since you were at school right?**" Harry unwillingly handed his wand back to Tom Riddle. Tom twirled it between his fingers once and when Harry blinked, his wand was gone. He really wished he knew how Tom did that.

"_I will teach you all I know, and all I will know once I make contact with my other self. Now go, I wish to rest_." He closed his eyes, and tried not to smile when he felt Harry press his lips against his own cold cheek.

"Hello Sirius, are you awake?" Harry sat up. He could never get used to feeling so comfortable one second in his warm bed in the Chamber, to suddenly feeling cold and stiff from sleeping on the floor all night. They hadn't any Prison robes his size so he wasn't able to sleep on the robes he had been arrested in, like Sirius and the other prisoners were.

"Hey, Pup," a hoarse voice called from the cell opposite Harry's. Poor Sirius hadn't been joking when he said the Dementors liked to visit him. A whole flock of them had hovered outside of his cell, completely ignoring Tom who sat stiffly on the other side of the corridor, while Harry slept. Tom had looked on impassively while Sirius screamed for forgiveness, begging Lily and James and Remus to take pity on him, to believe him. And Tom had flinched when he apologized for not being around to rescue Harry from Voldemort – and he had said that while staring right at Tom. But when Sirius began to cry, Tom had to, finally, look away.

"How are you?" Harry asked quietly, as he pushed his hand through the bars of his cell door. Sirius reached out and took hold of the small hand and squeezed it tightly.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor, but no one came towards them so they continued to hold onto each other. A little while up from them, about four cells or so, a door opened and someone was shoved inside with a scuffle and a groan of pain.

Someone laughed, a woman, and the laugh sent chills down Harry's spine. He wondered how long she had been here; she must be a prisoner, only someone who was locked up in Azkaban forever could sound so insane. A man laughed as well, but he just sounded cruel. "You're new home Bella," he said and Harry could guess he was sneering, "for good behaviour."

Harry turned to stare at Sirius when he gasped. "Do you know her?" He whispered when he couldn't hear the Unspeakables footsteps anymore.

"She's my cousin. She married a Lestrange and got sent here a year after me for torturing some friends of mine into insanity."

"Who?" Harry asked with a frown. No one at Hogwarts had mentioned it; but then again it wasn't really a teatime conversation topic of choice. But if anyone deserved to know something like that it was Harry, who everyone knew everything about when it came to Voldemort and his followers.

"Frank and Alice Longbottom." Sirius said quietly, staring in Bella's general direction.

"Neville's parents?" Harry asked in shook. Sirius just nodded.

"_Bellatrix, Rudolphus and Rabastian Lestrange were sentenced for two life times into the deepest, darkest part of Azkaban Prison. Where there are no windows, or doors, no food, water or fresh air. You're placed into a cylindrical hole in the ground and the cement tile is replaced back over your head so all you can see, hear and feel is darkness. It's enough to drive the sanest man, mad_." Tom whispered waking up. Lord Voldemort – where ever he was skulking – had heard them talking about Bellatrix, and had informed Tom of what he knew.

"**Is that the much, much worse place you were telling me about?**" Harry asked nervously, unconsciously running his hands up and down his arms.

"_One of them_," Tom said, before rolling over in the bed and going back to sleep.

"Lazy," Harry muttered. When he was back in his body, rather than in his mind, hiding in his Chamber, he noticed that Sirius had his face pressed against his bars and he was listening for something.

"Cousin, is that you?" Asked a woman, she had a slight drawl and she seemed to drag out her words as if she was planning to singsong sometime soon. "Sirius, Si-ri-us Bla-aack!" She giggled. "And itty, bitty, baby Potter. You're here too?"

"What did you say to her?" Harry hissed, stepping back into his cell nervously again. As if he were afraid that she would suddenly appear outside of his cell and grab him.

"I only said I wanted to talk to her. We wanted to talk to her." Sirius looked apologetic.

"Did you tell her about Tom?" He whispered.

"What? I didn't hear."

"Did you tell her about Tom?" He shouted, and then clamped his hand over his mouth. Sirius shook his head 'no'.

Bellatrix giggled again. "Who is Tom, bitty Potter?" She scoffed loudly, "your Mudblood friend?" She cackled, and Harry and Sirius, both, flinched.

"Actually," said Tom Riddle, growing rather annoyed of one of his followers interrupting his sleep. "I'm a half-blood." Sirius refused to meet his red eyes, instead choosing to crane his neck as if trying to see the look on Bellatrix's face.

She gasped, and Sirius thought that maybe she was staring wide-eyed at the bars of her cell, or craning her own neck to look at Tom. "My Lord?" She whispered, but Tom refused to answer her.

_XXX_

Four days later and Hermione finally had everything sorted out. As they had expected, people tried to make themselves believe that Harry had been evil all along, but there were those who protested. Surprisingly, Lucius Malfoy as one of the ones adamant that Harry be removed from Azkaban. In four days, Hermione had contacted Rita Skeeter, found all the proof she needed that Harry wasn't at fault and written out what she wanted published.

And four days later, Harry Potter once again made the front page of the Daily Prophet.

_Ladies and Gentle-Wizards, I am appalled at the lack of outrage shown on behalf of our dear Saviour, twelve-year-old, Harry Potter. Mr. Potter almost died to defeat You-Know-Who; as a result he had to live a loveless life, devoid of his parents and a family. Forced to live with Muggles. _

_And how do we repay him for protecting us? _

_We send him to Azkaban. We allowed him to be sent to Azkaban, a place no child had ever been sent before. And why? There was no proof that he killed Miss. Weasley, no proof, even, that he cast an Unforgivable. But there was proof that if either occurred, he was not at fault. _

_During the year, Miss. Weasley somehow procured a cursed diary, which contained a piece of a soul – whose is not yet known – and was possessed by it. It was this piece of a soul, which opened the Chamber of Secrets, and caused the end of Miss. Weasley's life. When Mr. Potter killed the Basilisk and saved Miss. Weasley's life, he, instead, became the host for the possessing spirit. The spirit which then cast the Unforgivable._

_If Dumbledore was half the man they say he is, he might have suggested Occlumency. An art form used among the Pureblood elite to protect their minds against enemies and jealous peasants. This would have protected Mr. Potter from the spirits influence and allowed him to live a normal life. _

_I, among many others, believe that Harry Potter should be freed from Azkaban and allowed back into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If, like myself, you are outraged at this travesty, sign the dotted line at the bottom of this article. Your name will be magically added to our 'Harry Is Innocent Petition' or HIIP for short. _

_Thank you dear readers, Rita Skeeter._

When they checked the petition an hour later, there were over 3000 signatures. At the very top of the list were the names Arthur and Molly Weasley: the parents of the dead girl.

_XXX_

Another day passed and there were many important changes. Not only had they now 8000 signatures for HIIP: but Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge had just passed a new sub-regulation through the Wizengamot.

Under Article B, of the Free Press and Speech Declaration, code 56429, Sub-section 6632, bullet point 1-4, anyone could use the press to publish their thoughts, opinions, petitions, and surveys. Now, under the same Article, there was a bullet point 5 – which made bullet point 3 (publishing petitions) illegal.

The Department for the Regulation of Fines and Taxes sent an owl everyone who signed their name on HIIP demanding they pay 3 Galleons compensation for crimes against the Ministry.

Dumbledore thought it was a rather clever idea.

Hermione Granger decided she'd just have to be cleverer!

**XXX**

The older Lord Voldemort will be appearing in the next chapter… and Wormtail, and maybe Lucius. And possibly Severus.

Anyway, there was the chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Please review and let me know what you think? I realize that there aren't many slash Azkaban fics going around, so if there is anything you'd like to see let me know and I'll see what I can do (bare in mind I already have a plot, so it can't be too far gone). I might possibly do outtakes if there are enough suggestions.


	3. The Others

Sorry this is so late. I've had family problems that I wont bore you with, lets just say 'trouble', 'stepdad' and 'argh!'. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, I know its short but the next chapter will be longer. And he'll be older then as well!

a href"http://k155-me. target"blank" img src"http://img. border"0" alt"Indelible by k155me at LJ dot Com" /a 

**Words: ** 2,612

**Chapter 3**

**The ****Others**

It was dark where He was. Dark, and cold. So very cold. But fortunately for Him, he wasn't quite capable of feeling the cold at the present moment. In fact, Lord Voldemort hadn't felt anything in quite a long time.

You see it all began on Halloween 1981, when an infant Harry Potter destroyed his body. The same child who now resided in Azkaban Prison. While he was bodiless, his spirit had survived the attack, and had fled. Now, many years later, Lord Voldemort was at last strong enough to possess humans – rather than snakes and rats. For the past three months Lord Voldemort had been inhabiting the body of a Muggle who unhappily crossed paths with the Dark Lord.

The Muggle was of average height, not too tall, but not too short. He was thin, and pale with white hair and red eyes. An unusual look, but Lord Voldemort felt it made a statement. He was different; even when he was possessing Muggles – they were different too. Special.

For a Muggle, the specimen wasn't too bad.

Lord Voldemort brushed down his – Muggle – shirt and trousers and stood. He had been sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, trying to concentrate on the magical signature that surrounded his Dark Mark and his horcruxes. So far, he had ascertained that many of his followers were in Azkaban – the wards of the Prison negated his control over his followers, so on occasion Voldemort mistook them for dead. Wormtail, he discovered, was the closest follower. He would summon Wormtail then, he decided.

After all, it wouldn't do to have the Dark Lord fend for himself in the wild.

Maybe Wormtail knew where his wand was.

He sat back down, and crossed his legs. His eyelids slipped down and he took a deep breath before he signalled out Wormtail's magical signature. When he found the bile yellow coloured thread of magic, Lord Voldemort tugged sharply and smirked as he felt – not heard – a yelp of pain.

Then he heard the sound of apparation, a pop, and opened his eyes to find Wormtail hunched over in front of him, trembling in fear.

"My Lord," the rat-faced man breathed and bowed once more. "You've returned!"

"Indeed," he drawled, standing back up. "And no thanks to you, Wormtail." The man cowered and began to make apologizes which were cut short by an imperious wave of Voldemort's borrowed hand. "Tell me, my loyal follower, what have you been doing with yourself?"

"Spying for you, my Lord!" He smiled, self satisfied and bowed once more.

Lord Voldemort didn't look impressed and Wormtail's smile dropped off his face. He swallowed nervously. "And what did you find out my servant?"

Wormtail gulped. "The Chamber of Secrets was opened this last school year, my Lord. One girl was killed, but they aren't blaming it on the 'monster'. Genevra Weasley was the one who opened the Chamber, and she died in it, my Lord."

"How?" He glared. "How did that Muggle lover open my ancestors private sanctum?"

Wormtail shifted his weight nervously. "She had a diary. I've heard Malfoy talk, my Lord, his son tells him that Dumbledore announced a part of your soul was in the journal."

"Did my soul fragment die with the girl, Wormtail?" Voldemort frowned; he hadn't felt any pain, a part of his couldn't have just died without him realizing. Not to mention he had a vague recollection of conversing with that part of him – Tom as he chose be addressed as – not too long ago. Well, it hadn't felt too long anyway. But time passed differently when you were a disembodied spirit, so for all the Dark Lord knew, Harry could have been arrested five years ago. He couldn't remember what he and Tom had spoken about, but he did know that Bellatrix Lestrange and Harry Potter were somehow involved.

Could it be, Voldemort mused, that Potter had been injured trying to save the silly girl? He didn't know where Bella came in though.

"No, my Lord. Malfoy believes that it resides in the girls supposed killer." Voldemort raised an eyebrow requesting Wormtail elaborate. "The boys eyes flashed red when he was arrested. Malfoy is trying to remove him from Azkaban."

"Was he successful?" Wormtail shook his head. "How long ago, Wormtail?"

The man gulped, "Malfoy has been trying for three months, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort felt the Muggles eyebrow twitch. It was a rather annoying sensation, so he clamped a hand to his forehead, pressing against his eyebrows, while making it look as if he was exasperated with Wormtail, rather than his eyebrows. "Who killed the girl, Wormtail?"

With a deep breath he said, "Harry Potter," and Voldemort resolved to be very pissed off with Lucius Malfoy for not trying harder.

"Who gave her the diary?" He asked tightly desperately wishing for a wand so he could Crucio someone.

"Malfoy." Wormtail squeaked and Lord Voldemort let out a roar of anger. When he had calmed down, Wormtail was once again hunched over, cowering at his feet.

"Pathetic," he thought.

And in reply, he heard, "_isn't he just?_"

After a moment trying to reign in his surprise, Voldemort spoke. "Hello Tom, enjoying Azkaban?" Lord Voldemort had not heard Tom in his head the last time they spoke, because he didn't have a corporeal head at the time. Rather it was a whisper, Tom's voice carried on the wind towards him; quiet and unassuming by the time it reached his mind. So quiet he could almost not hear it, nor remember what was said after a new whisper came floating towards him.

"_It is tolerable I suppose. Harry and I are opposite Sirius Black. We spoke of him, do you remember? Bellatrix – we spoke of her too – is a few cells away. The most trying thing about Azkaban would probably be her begging me to speak to her. The woman may possibly be insane. But Harry likes her well enough, so I wont kill her when given the chance._" Tom drawled happily occupying Harry's body while the boy rested.

Unlike Tom, Voldemort's possession killed the soul of the person who owned the body originally. Voldemort could leave as he chose to, and the body would be nothing more than a shell. But at the age Tom was he had not yet learnt to make or resurrect Inferi and so if he killed Harry's soul, Harry's body would die as well.

"Harry Potter, a criminal, what a novel thought. Do they not worship him as I had heard?"

"_Oh, they do, for the most part. The only people who believe Harry is guilty are Dumbledore, Minister Fudge and Ronald Weasley – Harry's ex-best friend. Of course, there are one or two other narrow minded morons, but they aren't important enough to mention. And how are you, enjoying wherever it is you're sulking about in? I notice you found yourself a body. How long has it lasted?_" Tom asked curiously, folding Harry's arms over his chest.

"Find my wand, Wormtail." He ordered and waited until the man had apparated away. "Lord Voldemort does not sulk! I have had this body as long as you have been in Prison, Tom. And I believe I am hear Ottery St. Catchpole, but I could be wrong."

"_Lord Voldemort is never wrong!_" Tom hissed, and actually blushed when he realized he wasn't chastising Harry, but talking to Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort smirked slightly. The foolishness of youth, he mused.

"Wormtail is with me. But soon I will gather the rest of my followers and find a way to get a body of my own. Then I will come for my most loyal followers in Azkaban." He seemed to be hinting something, and Tom snorted.

"_I am loyal to myself alone, Voldemort. And make no mistake, Harry is mine, not yours. I reside in Azkaban to keep Harry, and myself, safe for the time being. Not out of loyalty to you_." Tom woke Harry up and retreated to the back of the child's mind. He refused to speak to Voldemort.

Lord Voldemort was outraged by the lack of respect, and really wanted a wand so he could Crucio someone.

_XXX_

Harry opened his eyes and yawned, his jaw popping slightly. He rubbed at his eyes and smiled when he felt Tom curl up in their bed in their Chamber over the lake of water, and fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. "Morning," he muttered when he noticed Sirius staring at him.

"You've been thirteen for two months and I'm sorry I still can't get you anything." The elder Wizard shrugged his shoulders in a half-annoyed but half-not kind of way, and grinned widely. "I asked to owl Gringotts, but you remember what the Unspeakable said!" He actually hadn't said anything. He had kicked Sirius through the bars of the cell.

"It's ok, Siri." He smiled back and stuck his arm through the bars to catch Sirius' hand.

"Aw, is the itty bitty Potter all grown up?" Bellatrix's voice drifted towards them. In the three months Harry had been there, quite a handful of people had been arrested and Bellatrix had to move cells. The cell she had been in was rather large, and the Unspeakables had placed three men in there together – probably hoping they'd kill each other. Bellatrix was placed in a cell half the size of Harry's, right beside Sirius Black's cell. Harry could see into hers just as well as he could view Sirius.

He had gotten use to her teasing during their time there. "You know as well as I do Tinkerbell, I'm thirteen. Not thirty!" He stuck his tongue out and scrunched his nose up as he fought not to giggle.

Sirius snorted, bending his arm and taking his hand from Harry's to wave at Bellatrix. She scoffed at him. "The term would be 'growing up'." Sirius corrected with a laugh. "Not 'grown'."

"You never know, cousin mine, he could be 'grown' by the time he leaves this wretched place!" She spat at the floor by her feet in disgust. Sirius felt like copying her.

"Don't say that. He'll get out." He really hated Azkaban, and after wasting so many years of his life there he had no wish for Harry to suffer the same fate. "He'll get out, you'll see."

"Teach me to turn into a dog, Siri, and we'll dig under the wall and swim to shore." Harry grinned.

Bella started to cackle. "Oh, and of course that would work!" Sirius blushed crimson; that was exactly what he had been planning before Harry came to Azkaban.

And it bloody well would have worked, he thought determinedly.

_XXX_

Lucius Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled. Draco had been back at school for but a month and Lucius had already received twenty owls home, filled with complaints about Dumbledore and Weasley and Mudbloods in general. At first it was the usual complaints Draco had: Granger beat him in an exam, he missed the Snitch again, Weasley #6 was a pain and got in a fight with him, etc. But then they changed. Draco began to complain about Dumbledore's new rules, new teams, and the fact that the only people who received detention since school started up again were Slytherins.

Lucius was quite beside himself. He truly didn't know what to do.

Fortunately he had not been linked to the Chamber fiasco from last year, and he retained his place on the Board of Governors. He quickly penned a few letters and summoned his owl. In twenty minutes, the entire Board and the faculty of Hogwarts (minus Dumbledore) would be meeting at Malfoy Manor.

Dumbledore really was beginning to test his patience.

Especially considering the last letter he received from Draco. Dumbledore had dared use Veritaserum on his son! And had questioned Draco about him, about Lucius and his involvement with the death of Ginny Weasley and why he wanted Harry in St. Mungos. Thankfully, Draco didn't know the truth. Lucius would, at that moment, hunt Dumbledore down and kill him, if he thought he could get away with it. But landing himself in Azkaban would do nothing to protect Draco, nor free Potter.

_XXX_

The Headmasters Office was, usually, a place of serenity and comfort, where students could go to seek advise and find help for problems of any sort. But with the behaviour of Albus Dumbledore lately many students were afraid of even setting eyes on him at meals in case he noticed them back. The Slytherins were especially fearful. Many had turned to Professor Snape, the only Slytherin ex-student on staff, but there wasn't much he could do.

Dumbledore felt like he was losing control of everything. He needed to have control, and he truly believed the new measures he was taking would grant him that control and help the students in the long run.

Slytherins had classes with Slytherins only. The other three Houses were mixed, like they had been years previous.

Punishments towards Slytherins were more severe.

Anybody talking pleasantly about Harry Potter, or mentioning an appeal of his sentence, would be punished regardless of the House. Slandering Potter, however, granted you fifty House points – and many people said things they didn't mean just for the points. Others refused to!

Newspapers were banned. No one would be permitted to read them, on the off chance that there was another Petition printed on Harry's behalf. Despite the fact that Dumbledore had Minister Fudge change the laws Lucius Malfoy still managed to convince the man to sign the permission forms now needed to print Petitions.

A team of students were established to 'protect' other students. What they really did however was carry out searches and report anyone they suspect of using Dark Magic, owning Dark Artefacts or being on Harry's side. Draco Malfoy had been reported 58 times in one month but every single Gryffindor. The rest of the Slytherins were close behind… but Ron Weasley really didn't like Malfoy.

You may ask why Dumbledore would willingly abandon his Saviour. The precious Boy-Who-Lived. Why forsake him, and risk the anger of Witches and Wizards everywhere?

It all started with a Prophecy; one that claimed that Harry would either kill the Dark Lord, or be killed by him. Marked as Voldemort's equal Harry's fate was decided when he was fifteen-months-old. And to think, Harry didn't actually know any of this! But Dumbledore did.

Unfortunately there was something else Dumbledore knew and something he didn't. He knew, of course, that Tom Riddle now inhabited the body of the last remaining Potter, which meant that Lord Voldemort would use the same body to rise to power and destroy the Wizarding World.

What he didn't know was that, unlike he thought, Harry's soul was still alive and well, and Tom had no plans to remove or destroy that soul.

So when he condemned Tom Riddle to Azkaban in the hopes of keeping him from finding the spirit of Lord Voldemort, he also condemned Harry to hell.

Which, to be fair, was not his intent.

Foolishly, he believed that he was doing the right thing, and refused to listen to the voice at the back of his head – his conscience – that tried to remind him that, at sixteen-years-old, Tom Riddle had not mastered the art of Necromancy. He refused to believe Harry could be alive and condemned. Albus Dumbledore was a hero, and heroes didn't make mistakes, did they? And Dumbledore was convinced he was right, and that he was doing the right thing.

Thwarting Lord Voldemort was for the greater good, and in war innocents are always sacrificed.

**XXX**

Enjoy, and please review! And hey, I passed all my exams! Yay!


	4. Resurrecting Ravana

Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long, hopefully it's a little longer than the last. I have my Debs (or Prom) today, and I refuse to do anything other than sit around doing nothing (and updating) because I'm afraid my hair will fall down… Now I have to go get ready or I'll be late! Hope you appreciate this!

B **Title: ** /B Ravana is an evil Hindu God with ten heads. To resurrect him would be very bad, sort of like bringing back Voldemort. And it sounds better than "Resurrecting Voldy" lol.

**Words: ** 4,801

**Chapter 4**

**Resurrecting Ravana**

Azkaban Prison wasn't a place known for its cheerfulness or interior décor. But, insanity obviously makes the world a brighter place. Where the Prison should have been glum and terrifying, it was instead filled with the sound of off-key singing. The words echoed through the Prison and before any of the Unspeakables could come to their senses, every prisoner was joining in with a chorus of "happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Harry's getting 'grown' now, what can you do?"

It was in fact the boy's 14th birthday. The second of which he had celebrated behind the stonewalls of the horridly unsanitary place. The year had passed quickly to some, and slowly to others. But no one could dispute that Harry's presence did liven things up.

Sirius spent less time cowering as a Grim, the Dementors spent less time roaming their corridor – they probably grew tired of staring contests with Tom; after all Dementors are blind. Bellatrix cackled just as much as ever, but now her husband and his brother had joined her. The three spent much of their time reminiscing over their most memorable raids, especially their last one when they tortured Neville Longbottom's parents to insanity. Tom was rather impressed by that he had to admit.

Speaking of Tom, he had spent so much time sharing a body with someone who wasn't fighting back, unlike Ginny Weasley who fought tooth and nail to gain control again. Harry just allowed it to happen He allowed Tom full reign whenever the teenager wanted it, and in returned, Tom gave the body back when asked. But the point was, of course, that Tom had managed to weave a strand of his magic around Harry's magical core enabling him to siphon magic when he dearly needed it, while replacing it with magic of his own in an endless circle. While both boys were powerful in their own right, they were amazing together.

He had a very special present for Harry this year.

He had been practising while Harry was sleeping, and now he only had to wait until Sirius was asleep – he wasn't too bothered about the Lestranges' watching.

By the time everyone had grown tired of singing to Harry, it was well after an hour since they started. Unfortunately for the Unspeakables the rest of the prisoners had cheered up considerably and were not so easy to intimidate. Harry, of course, knew nothing of that. He was only aware of the texture of the floor under his feet. He had grown so embarrassed that he had ducked his head to hide his blush, and had yet to look up.

"Harry birthday, pup." Sirius grinned and reached an arm through the bars of his cell. Harry leant over as well, and squeezed the offered hand. He had grown a little, so Sirius no longer had to lean so far forward anymore.

"Itty baby Potter is not so itty bitty anymore, is he?" Bellatrix cooed, puckering up her lips and blowing him a kiss. "Is he a big boy now, is he? In't he the cutest little bitty Potter, in't he?" She nudged her husband who rolled his eyes at her behaviour, but nodded anyway.

As far as Harry could tell, Rudolphus Lestrange was not as far gone as his wife seemed to be. He was quiet. For the six months since he was moved to Bella's cell, he had barely spoken more than ten sentences to Harry or anyone else unless it was a tale of torturing someone. Rabastian though, the younger brother, was much more vocal.

"Really Tinkerbell," he also seemed to have taken on board Harry's habit of nicknaming Bellatrix. "Leave the boy alone. It is his birthday. Remember how you used to get annoyed with Cissa teased you on your birthday?" Harry and Sirius both looked over. "Well, I suppose you want to know? Bella was turning 13, and she thought she was so grown up and matured, and she had all this make up on her face and curls in her hair. But of course no one had taught her the spells – she did it the Muggle way – and when she came down the stairs she resembled a klone." He frowned.

"Clown," Harry corrected and Rabastian nodded gratefully.

"A clown. You should have heard her mother shout. Bella was made scrub it all off in front of the family and sent in to the guests without make up or curls. Narcissa still hasn't stopped teasing. Well," he paused, "she might have. It's been so long since we last saw her."

"Do shut up, Ian!" Bellatrix hissed. "And you, Dolf, stop snickering!" both boys lowered their eyes to the floor and tried to hide their smirks. Harry let out a giggle – he was far away from Bella, unlike the male Lestranges, and in no danger of her smacking him.

"What's with the nicknames, Tom?" Harry asked under his breath. Sure that Tom could hear him anyway.

"_Almost everybody that's well-known gets tagged with a nickname. If you give yourself one, and people hear of it, there is less chance that the Daily Prophet will dub you 'Madam Strange' or Half-Blood Boy', or something similarly ridiculous_." Tom drawled, his arms folded across his chest while he tapped his foot impatiently. He rather wished he could use magic in the real world, rather than just inside of their private Chamber; he would dearly love to cast a sleeping spell on the others so he could give Harry his present now.

"Is that why you choose Voldemort? So they wouldn't call you 'the Dark Lord Half-Blood Boy'?" He snorted in amusement as he felt Tom scowl at the back of his mind.

"_Do not laugh. They may yet choose to call you that!_" He sneered unpleasantly.

"Well then, Tom, I should choose another name. You want to help me anagram?" Tom rolled his eyes. "I have a 'H', two 'A's, um…"

"_Pray tell me, Potter, but what in the name of Merlin's sagging scrotum are you doing?_" Tom asked, eyes wide in astonishment. Surely no one could be that stupid.

"Trying to figure out what letters I have in my name!" He said back in a loud whisper. "Aren't I? Isn't that what I'm meant to do?" He asked unsurely.

"_And will you remember the letters off the top of your head? No. Think, Harry. The floor is dirty enough. Write the letters on it_."

"Oh yeah! Thanks!" He grinned and began to draw the letters into the lay of dust on the floor. It didn't seem to matter how often he moved over and across the floor, the dust would collect in the cleaned area almost as soon as Harry moved away. "I have it." Tom nodded, waiting to hear what it was. "'Armet Soptry Jahre', what do you think?"

Tom hit himself on the forehead, even though he actually wanted to hit Harry. "_Are you, by any chance, German? A Grindelward supporter? Try again, Harry. Is 'Soptry' even a name?_"

"Um," he muttered before rubbing the letters out and turning around. He wrote his name again and started over. "How about 'Ramsey Rehat Jorpt'?"

"'_Jorpt', hmm? You sound like a_ /I German I _yoghurt. Maybe you shouldn't anagram your name? If you could have any name, what one would it be?_"

"It has to be something special right? Especially since I'm sharing a body with the young Lord Half-Blood Boy!" He giggled as Tom cursed loudly; the elder teen rather wished he hadn't opened his mouth earlier. "How about Jeffery!"

"_Should I dignify that with a response, or just hit you?_"

"Frank? Roger? Reginald? Jaguar? Tom?"

"_That's my name, Harry_." He gave a low groan as Harry continued to rattle off unoriginal and boring names. What ever happened to special anyway? It continued in this pattern until long gone midnight, and by that time everyone else was asleep and Tom had a migraine. "_Harry I don't mean to be rude, but shut the fuck up! Please?_" Harry immediately grew quiet, his hand clamped over his mouth. "_Thank you. Now I have a present for you. Close your eyes_."

When Harry closed his eyes, Tom took a deep breath and hoped desperately that his surprise worked as well when Harry was awake, as it did when Harry was sleeping. When Harry opened his eyes three minutes later a fully corporeal Tom Riddle was standing right in front of him. Harry looked around wide eyes, trying to make sure that they were not in their Chamber. When he had firmly established that Tom was in his cell with him, Harry let out a small shriek and launched himself at his friend of just over a year.

Tom hugged him back just as tightly, revelling in that chance to really touch the other boy. Unlike in their Chamber, where Harry and Tom always felt cold to one another's touch, here in the real world Tom could practically feel Harry's warmth seeping through his clothing and marking his skin. Harry slowly drew back and Tom almost whimpered at the loss of heat. "What is it?" He asked as Harry's eyes widened. He could talk like Harry now – out loud, so everyone could hear him.

"Is this going to kill me?" He whispered, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"No." Tom whispered back, pressing his lips to Harry's ear as he drew the boy back against his chest. "No it won't kill you." He promised, moving his face so his lips could brush over Harry's cheek. "Our magic is entwined. I can take magic from you, and you draw it back from me, endlessly, infinitively, so neither of us will tire or seriously deplete our magic. As a result, here I am. I have been waiting to do this to you for a while now." He grinned roguishly.

Harry hesitantly met Tom's eyes. He licked his lips and considered trying to pull away, but there really was nowhere to run. He held Tom's eyes as the boy lent forward. Rather than hurt him like Harry thought he would, Tom crushed their lips together. He pulled back and licked his lips with a moan. "Delicious." He praised quietly, running one hand through the brunette's tangled mass of hair.

Harry still looked rather dazed, but his hand came up and pressed against his lips. "What?" He managed to choke out. He just had his first kiss. With a boy. He'd always imagined his first kiss would be with a girl, and since he'd been sent to Azkaban he decided he probably wouldn't ever get a first kiss or anything else. But never once had he thought he'd kiss a boy. And not just any boy, but Tom.

To be honest, Harry had considered Tom good looking when he had first seen him, and even more so when he was in the Chamber. But recently he had thought of Tom as a friend. It would be like kissing Ron, or something. Tom was still good looking, in his opinion, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss the other male. Harry didn't particularly notice one sex over the other. Bellatrix would have been beautiful before Azkaban, Rabastian was still handsome even though he was in Azkaban, and Rudolphus had great bone structure but he was too pale. He had never thought of Sirius as attractive or ugly though; Sirius was just Sirius to Harry. Maybe that meant he didn't consider Tom as family? He had thought about Tom's attractiveness before, but not Sirius', right?

As if reading his thoughts, Tom laughed and said, "It seems you need help deciding." He moved forward quickly, striking like the snake he was, and pressed his mouth to Harry's once more. But unlike the last time, he didn't keep it chaste. His tongue flicked out incessantly, wetting the seam of Harry's lips and demanding entrance. When Harry's mouth opened, Tom gave a groan of satisfaction and allowed his tongue to slip inside, tracing the top of Harry's tongue. When Tom moved in for the next kiss, Harry's tongue hesitantly peeked out to meet the others.

"Ok," Harry smiled when Tom allowed him to breathe. "I like kissing you."

"And I am very pleased to hear it." He kissed Harry again. "I have one more thing for you."

"Oh?" Harry asked with a half smile on his face, his head tilted to one side.

"I thought, since I was your first kiss, I should be your first something else as well." Harry's eyes widened and he jumped backwards shaking his head. "No, silly boy, not that. Not so soon. I want to please you, to thank you."

"Thank me for what?"

Tom laughed. "For cutting your finger on the diary, for taking my soul into your body, for not fighting against my presence, for letting me kiss you, for making me feel, anything, everything Harry, the things in between. I don't know why I'm thanking you; I just know I have to. Let me please you?"

Harry swallowed heavily, but nodded his head. "What do you want me to do?"

"Lie down." Tom waited until Harry was laying spread out on the floor. Tom moved to lie on top of the other boy, their bodies pressed together teasingly. The fourteen year old gulped, and then moaned as Tom's lips met his again. Tom's hand moved down to unfasten the fly of Harry's dirty trousers. When they were opened, Tom pulled them down slightly, exposing Harry's boxer shorts that were equally as dirty. Those were pulled down over Harry's hips as well.

When the teenager's penis was exposed, he blushed bright red. Tom stared at the organ for a moment before smirking and moving his hand to wrap around the flesh. His hand moved up and down slowly, squeezing gently around the glands at the top before moving down to grip the base again. Harry panted lightly. The blood began to rush in the direction opposite his head, causing his penis to twitch and swell, growing in Tom's grip.

Harry looked rather mortified. This was his first sexual experience of any kind, and he wasn't quite sure if his cock was meant to be doing that. He had been too young to masturbate when he was imprisoned, and he wasn't going to start with Sirius watching him. He supposed it wouldn't have been so embarrassing if he was touching himself and realized he was weird or wrong. But to have Tom pleasure him and realize he wasn't working correctly was mortifying.

"This is meant to happen." Tom assured him, and continued to stroke the swollen shaft lightly. "Are you enjoying yourself, Harry?" He asked with a smirk as he lowered himself onto Harry again, pressing against the younger boy, allowing Harry to feel his own swollen cock through his clothing. "I'm enjoying myself," he whispered as he began to rut against the boy's leg. Harry moaned as Tom's other hand moved to cup his scrotum.

"Oh please, please," he begged quietly, as he felt fire alight in his stomach and his legs began to tingle. "Feels good," he whispered even though he didn't know what felt good.

"Yes," Tom agreed, his hand moving from Harry's sac to his own groin. He rubbed himself through his trousers as he continued to jerk Harry's prick, relishing in the pants and moans and innocent pleas for more. "Tell me you like this, Harry."

"I do, do… I- I, oh Merlin, please Tom!" He cried as his back arched. He felt his balls tighten and his eyes met Tom's. Both were flushed and panting, both of their eyes' were wide and glassy, swirling with lust. Harry screamed as he felt his cock twitch again, and then something white and sticky was shooting out of the end of it, and into Tom's hand. Tom's other hand was shoved down his trousers, stroking his own prick.

Tom brought his hand to his mouth and began to lick Harry's ejaculate off of his fingers. He gave his own cry soon after, coming in his trousers and over his fingers.

Harry, hesitantly, pulled the hand out of Tom's pants and raised it to his mouth. His tongue flicked out and licked a small bit of the white fluid, before wrinkling his nose up. "It tastes funny. What is it?"

"Semen. Sperm. Cum." Tom wiped the rest of it onto his t-shirt, and lent down to kiss Harry lightly on the lips. "Oh," he said as if just realizing it, "you weren't old enough to learn any of this. Sorry." He didn't sound very sorry, but Harry smiled up at him anyway.

He waved his hand, and the small stains on both of their trousers disappeared. "How did you do that?" Harry asked in amazement, waving his hand frantically – but of course nothing happened.

"Wandless and non verbal spells. I began learning them at sixteen. Cleaning up cum was one of the first I learnt, after learning to summon lubricant." He sent Harry a impish grin. The younger boy blushed again, and then yawned. "Get some sleep." With a smile – rather than a scream – Tom glowed faintly and disappeared before Harry's eyes.

"TOM!" He cried worriedly.

"_I am here, fear not, Harry. Go, sleep, now_." He ordered while wrapping his arms around the teenager's waist. Harry smiled at him from their bed, and turned to press his face to Tom's chest.

"**Goodnight Tom. Or good morning**." He yawned widely, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Tom watched him sleep for a while, before closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep himself.

_XXX_

Four months later, somewhere near Ottery St. Catchpole.

Peter Pettigrew scuttled through the bushes, disguised as a rat, desperately trying to find his way back to the Weasleys' home. After an hour of trying, he gave up and transformed into a human. With a huff of annoyance, and a prayer that no one spotted him, he apparated outside of the Burrow. Foolish Arthur Weasley believed his family were safe, and so none of them had thought to place wards around their home. This meant that Wormtail had spent many happy years under their roof with them none the wiser. And it meant he could walk right back in the door and nothing but the sound of his footsteps would alert them.

He took a quick look around, and closed his eyes. In his place now, was a small brown rat. He scuttled towards the door, clawing at it noisily. The door swung open and a tall red headed boy looked down at him.

"Ronald!" Percy Weasley cried. "Scabbers is back." Percy had owned Scabbers for years, until he made Head Boy and his parents bought him an owl. He didn't particularly like the rat; it gave him the creeps, always watching him, following him, smelling him and listening to him. It was like the rat understood him, which wasn't normal. And Percy wasn't particularly fond of things that were too far out of the ordinary.

Ron Weasley came charging down the stairs. He gave a cry of delight when he caught sight of the fat rat on the doorstep. "Scabbers! You came home, good boy!" He cried picking the animal up. Wormtail tried not to hurl as the redhead swung him around in an arc, grinning from freckled ear to ear. "I haven't seen you since the end of-" he frowned and his eyes narrowed, "-that year." He really didn't enjoy mentioning anything to do with Harry Potter. "Where have you been?"

He waited, actually seeming to expect an answer. "He can't talk, Ronald, he's a rat." Percy rolled his eyes and closed the front door. He headed back up the stairs just as his parents came down and the fireplace sprung to life.

Remus John Lupin stepped out and brushed himself down. The Werewolf had never really forgiven Dumbledore for sending Harry to Azkaban, but as he needed the money the man agreed to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Remus, along with Sirius, had been best friends with James Potter, and Wormtail too. "Hello Molly," he greeted with a small smile.

"Hello. Did that man send you?" They were all still rather miffed at Dumbledore, it seemed. But, Voldemort was growing ever stronger, and in times like these you needed to ally yourself to as many people as possible. None of them were so fickle as to alienate Dumbledore and risk rotting in Azkaban beside Harry, or dying by Voldemort's hand.

"Yes. He's calling a meeting. The old crowd is gathering again." She gasped and Arthur pressed a hand to her shoulder.

"That bad is it, Remus?" He asked. Remus just nodded. Arthur looked around slowly, making sure that all of his children, especially Ron, were out of hearing range. "And Harry? What about him?"

"I went to Greyback, Arthur. He can't get Harry out of Azkaban. But, he promised to protect him from the Wizards if someone else got him out." Remus rubbed his eyes wearily. "I can't think of anyone else."

"What about You-Know-Who?" Someone said from behind them. They turned around; wands raised, to find Nymphandora Tonks – one of Harry's arresting Aurors – sitting in the fireplace. "Fell over," she said with a shrug.

"He isn't even back yet. And regardless of what Dumbledore says, Harry is not in league with Him. Why would He help Harry?" Remus growled.

"Lucius Malfoy is trying to help. And Malfoy was one of Voldemort's greatest supporters." Hermione crossed her arms and glared at everyone in the room. She held one of the Weasley Twins' Extendable Ears in her hand. "Don't worry, I took it off them before they could hear too much." Molly gasped and moved across the room to take the ear off Hermione. "Maybe it would be worth it asking for help. What's the worst he could do? Kill us?"

"There are things worse than death, Hermione." Remus whispered, remembering things that had happened to people he knew in the first war. "You shouldn't have been listening in."

"Don't you want to help Harry?" She cried angrily.

"Of course I do!" He shouted back, "I just don't believe Voldemort will!" He flinched and paled, as if saying the Dark Lord's name would invite the evil into the house. He licked his lips nervously and turned to face the elder Weasleys, ignoring Hermione completely. "We should leave, we'll be late."

Wormtail was very pleased he had cast sensory heightening charms on himself before leaving for his mission. He had heard every word, even after the Mudblood girl had taken away the fake ear. With a squeak, he bit deeply into Ron's finger, causing the boy to scream like a girl and throw Scabbers at the wall. Wormtail cursed mentally as he heaved himself up and ran through the hall and into the kitchen. His teeth clamped onto the edge of Remus' frayed trousers just as the man stepped into the fireplace and disappeared in green flames.

Three hours later, Peter was running out of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, his hands over his head, a yew wand in his pocket, and members of the Order shouting spells after him. When he was finally far enough away, he stopped to catch his breath, then apparated near Ottery St. Catchpole. When he landed, he bowed bow, his knees sinking in the mud as he handed the yew wand forward. Lord Voldemort took the wand and held it reverently, savouring the feel of it in the borrowed body's hand.

He was now housed in the body of a blond haired Veela male. Unfortunately for the Veela, he had stumbled across Lord Voldemort just as his old body began to fail.

"My wand," he hissed, stroking the dark wood, "my wand. Well done Wormtail." His fingers brushed over the skull like carving at the top of the handle, and trailed down to finger the pointed tip. "My wand."

"I aim to please, my Lord."

"You did well. We can move on with our plan now." His eyes narrowed at the cowering man. "Can't we?"

"Of course, my Lord, at once. I have figured out where to get the blood from, my Lord. If Harry is no longer your enemy, then he is as close to a friend, is he not? And the enemy of your enemy is your friend?"

"What are you dribbling on about, Wormtail?" He asked, his patience was beginning to wear thin.

"My Lord, if you captured an enemy of Potter's, his blood would work just as well." Voldemort raised an eyebrow and drummed the fingers on one hand against his other arm. "Ronald Weasley, my Lord, despises Harry – probably more so than he hates and fears you." Wormtail ducked his head down quickly, "my Lord."

"Find me Ron Weasley." He stroked the Veela's chin and smirked. "The Weasley family will possibly be extinct by the time my plans are finished," he laughed and Wormtail had little choice but to laugh along with him.

_XXX_

"I can't believe it's June already!" Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes angrily. "And Harry is still in Azkaban!" Beside her, Fred Weasley nudged her lightly and gave her a small smile.

"We're trying, ok. We can't do any more than that!" His brother, George, said.

Before anymore could be said, three teachers came running around the corner of the corridor and crashed right into the group of students. Professor Snape, Hooch and McGonagall picked themselves off the floor with various looks of displeasure, and waited until the students were standing.

"Why aren't you watching the Third Task?" McGonagall asked curtly.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been called into play three months into the school year (which was just after Voldemort got his wand back), and by some miracle Ronald Weasley had cheated the age barrier and placed his name in the Goblet of Fire.

"We don't really feel like watching my brother make a show of our entire family, Professor." Fred said matter of factly.

"Well, there's no need to worry about that," Professor Hooch muttered and McGonagall shot her a dark look.

"Why is that Professor?" Hermione asked curiously.

Snape glared at each of them in turn. "Weasley has been Portkeyed out of the maze. Most likely by You-Know-Who." None of the students looked particularly bothered. But then again, Ron didn't have many friends this year, especially since he was always so busy mouthing off about Harry and claiming he could have saved his sister but Harry wouldn't let him help, and then with the Tournament. People really did think he was an attention seeker – which he was – and were glad to be away from him. The only people who cheered for Ron were the Slytherins… when Ron got hurt.

_XXX_

In the cemetery outside of Riddle Manor, Ron Weasley found himself tied to a gravestone. Wormtail walked slowly around the large black cauldron in front of him, first dropping in a bone from someone's leg, then he had cut Ron's arm open and dropped some of the blood in. Now, he had the knife pressed to his own wrist, and he brought it down heavily, cleaving his hand off. The hand fell into the cauldron, and Wormtail's screams were drowned out by the hissing and bubbling of whatever foul Potion was being brewed. When the hissing stopped, Ron noticed a very handsome blond man walk towards the cauldron.

The Veela had red eyes.

Lord Voldemort stepped into the cauldron, curling up until he was fully submerged by the Potion. When he stood up again, he no longer wore the body of the Veela. Instead he was tall and pale, his facial features were like that of Tom Riddle's as was his hair. His eyes were still red, and he was unfortunately naked.

He hummed for a moment and nodded to Wormtail, who passed the wand over. Quickly conjuring a robe for himself, Voldemort smirked in triumph at the fear on the red heads face.

On the floor beside the Portkey was the petrified body of the other Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory. "Ah, good, you didn't kill him." The man floated the Portkey above the blond and let it drop. The Tri-Wizard Cup, and the Hufflepuff Seeker disappeared together.

A quick spell later and Wormtail had a brand new hand, made of silver and very shiny. After tapping his wand to Wormtail's Dark Mark, Voldemort stood back and waited until his servants apparated to his side.

He was back, for good this time.

"My Lord," the chorused, as they threw themselves to the ground at his feet.

It was good to be back.

**XXX**

Almost everybody that's well-known gets tagged with a nickname. – Alan Alda.

Thanks for reading. Please consider reviewing…


	5. Indelible

I know, I know, I've taken my time, haven't I

This is a re-post. I got some dates wrong. Harry had been in Azkaban for exactly TWO years, not three.

I know, I know, I've taken my time, haven't I? But it's better late than never right?

**Words: ** 3,068

**Chapter 5**

**Indelible**

June 25th 1995.

The last thing any of the Death Eaters expected that evening was that their Lord would summon them all. As far as many of them knew, their Lord was dead, defeated, and other same-meaning word beginning with 'd'. All except Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape.

Working as a spy had its advantages as far as Snape was concerned. Sure he exposed himself to endless risk and torture, but he always knew more than the other Death Eaters, because Albus told him more than the Dark Lord told his faithful followers. So Snape knew there was a high chance of Voldemort returning that day; especially after the Dark Mark appeared when Ron Weasley disappeared.

Lucius however was not a spy, and so Dumbledore didn't tell him anything. But he still, to that day, could remember the flash of red that appeared in Harry Potter's eyes when the boy was arrested. It was almost two years ago, and he, more than anyone, was dreading the returning of Lord Voldemort. He, who should have rescued Harry by now, was more afraid than the traitor Snape, because he had failed to save his Lord's Horcrux from prison.

And he was terrified that his family – more so his son – would have to pay the price of his failure.

With one last nervous look at his wife, Lucius apparated from his home, straight to the cemetery at Riddle Manor. He was met there by nearly all of the Dark Lords Inner Circle, with the exception of Snape and the Lestranges. Grinning madly beside a cowering Wormtail was Barty Crouch Jr.

"My Lord," the Death Eaters chorused as they fell to their knees and remained there.

"My Lord, they have come!" Barty cried as he took in the sea of white-masked faces.

"So they have." The Dark Lord hissed quietly. Lucius swallowed and hesitantly looked up. His eyes met the red orbs of Voldemort, who had been staring at him, and Lucius turned away in submission. "I am most disappointed in you all. None of you even attempted to help me."

"My Lord," one called out, jumping to his feet, "I tried my Lord, I swear it!"

"Avery," Voldemort snarled, "Crucio!" Watching the man writhe in pain was enough of an incentive to keep Lucius' mouth shut. There was no way the blond was willingly inviting that pain upon himself; he could quite easily wait until the Dark Lord addressed his negligence first.

"Crabbe, Goyle, I expected nothing better. But Lucius, in you I am most disappointed." The Malfoy patriarch slowly lifted his head, and removed his mask.

"My Lord, I beg of you…"

"Save your breath. I will not punish you now." He turned to look at Ron. "I have other matters to attend to. But rest assured, there will come a time, very soon, when you will have to prove your loyalty to Lord Voldemort. Or suffer the consequences."

"I understand my Lord." Lucius whispered, lowering his head again. "You are most merciful."

Voldemort didn't comment, instead his eyes moved over his followers to land on Ron Weasley's face. He fingered his wand lightly before a smirk blossomed onto his face. "Avery, I present you with the opportunity to redeem yourself." While the others remained kneeling, Avery was still lying on his side from when he had been tortured. Voldemort had not given him leave to rise. Now though, the man slowly sat up, and then stood. His wand was removed from his pocket and pointed at the bound redhead.

"CRUCIO!" He cried, happily inflicting pain on others, thankful he was not the one in pain. Voldemort delighted in the screams.

"The rest of you may take your turn when Avery is finished. Lucius, you will go last. I expect him to be dead when you are through."

"Yes my Lord," the chorused once again. Lucius was used to going first, as his Lord's favourite, and then being allowed to deal the killing blow. But obviously his failure to free Harry had annoyed Voldemort more than Lucius had assumed it would. He had been delegated to the end of the food chain, so to speak. But no matter, the blond thought, when I prove myself the Malfoy family will be back in our Lords favour.

"Avada Kedavra." He hissed when his turn came around. He happily took the life of his archenemy's son.

Voldemort smirked at his followers. He took hold of the redhead's hair, and yanked, ripping a clump from the dead boys head. With a few waves of his wand, the clump of hair was then transformed into a Portkey. Smirking again, Voldemort attached the hair to the corpse's head and activated it. The body landed in the same place the Hufflepuff had, right in full view of all the spectators. Only this time, unlike Cedric, Ron was dead.

"Now my loyal followers, as you have noticed, there are a few of us missing. In two days, they will be with us again. Azkaban will not keep them from us!" The Death Eaters cheered wildly. While Lucius cheered along, inside he was trembling. Azkaban was notoriously difficult to escape from – no one had ever managed it – and only fools broke _in_. But, he supposed, politics wouldn't quite cover it this time.

They were breaking into Azkaban, and Lucius knew they were doing it for Potter. The Lestranges were just added bonuses.

_XXX_

June 26th 1995.

"Hey Tom," no one answered. "Tom, are you awake?"

Inside of Harry's mind, in a room that looked just like the Chamber of Secrets – except for the bed floating over the lake of water – a figure purposely turned his back to the voice speaking.

"Tom! I said I was sorry!" Harry stamped his foot on the floor.

Across the hallway, in another cell, Sirius Black looked over with his eyebrows raised. "What's wrong Pup? Is the Dark Lord Half-Blood Boy stropping again?" Harry tried not to giggle.

"_I told you NEVER to call me that!_"

"**He speaks!**" Harry was suddenly standing in the Chamber, right beside Tom, a small smile on his face.

"_Just go away Harry, I don't want to speak to you._" Tom turned away again, his back to Harry once more.

"**Tooooooooom! I'm sorry ok? It was only a joke. I'll tell you if you really want me to**."

"_No, keep your stupid name a secret. I just wont give you a birthday present this year_." Harry's face took on a red tint at the reminded of last year's gift. He was only months away from turning fifteen.

"**You're acting like a child, Tom. It's unseemly. What would Voldemort say if he saw himself acting like this?**" Tom spun around so fast it made Harry dizzy. His eyes narrowed and he stalked towards the other, younger boy. Harry was pressed against a wall before he knew it, with Tom's lips inches from his own. "**Can't we just kiss and make up?**"

"_I have nothing against the kissing part._" Tom muttered before crushing his lips to Harry's, revelling in the moan the teenager let out. When they pulled apart, Harry was flushed and panting, and Tom was grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "_Are you going to tell me your name now?_"

"**Nope!**" Harry said, jumping away from Tom. Before Tom could say anything, Harry was outside of the Chamber and back in his own body. "You can find out with the rest of the world, Half-Blood Boy."

"_Stop calling me that, Potter!_" He turned his back on the brunette again. Sulking.

_XXX_

June 27th 1995.

Outside Azkaban a day later, ten of Voldemort's best Death Eaters shivered despite the warming spells on their robes. Not all of them were in the Inner Circle, but Voldemort had called them to his side nonetheless. The hovered together in groups, pressed tightly to one another, trying to fight back the bitter wind and the gathering of Dementors. Their Lord stood alone, in front of them, conversing with the Dementor in charge. His hands waved about to emphasise his words and the Parseltongue made some of the men shiver for other reasons than the cold.

When Voldemort stopped hissing, all of the Dementors – even the ones that were gathering around the Death Eaters, and the ones that were patrolling the Prison – floated above the Prison, and remained there as if suspended. They stared down sightlessly, and the Death Eaters smiled to each other in relief. In groups of two and three they made their way towards the Prison doors and entered the building.

Voldemort waited outside, just in case the Dementors changed their minds.

Lucius was paired with Wormtail – unfortunately – and Barty Jr. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his mask on and nodded to the other two. As one they approached and entered the Prison. Almost as soon as they entered they were attacked by one of the guards. Thankful for his quick reflexes, Lucius stunned one of them before turning to watch as Barty tortured another. Wormtail, as usual, cowered uselessly in the corner.

"Can you smell him?" As an animagus, Wormtail had a heightened sense of smell. And fortunately for Lucius and Barty, Wormtail would make finding their targets easier. As childhood friends of Lupin, Black, and Potter Sr., Wormtail had their scent imprinted on his memory. It just so happened that their group had been sent to find Sirius Black.

"Yes," Wormtail's nose twitched. "This way." Lucius allowed the cowardly man to lead, his own nose wrinkling in distaste. "I smell- I smell- my Lord?" He whispered. Of course he smelt Tom's essence on Harry, but he didn't know that, did he? "And James! But he's-"

"Dead, yes I know. You're probably smelling Harry. Now, if you don't mind taking us to him?" In Lucius' opinion, Black was probably near Potter anyway; especially if Dumbledore assumed it was Voldemort wearing Potter's body. He'd have used the opportunity to torment Sirius until the man really was insane.

Lucius knew he would have.

"This way!" Wormtail said, before he practically skipped down the corridor. Obviously his betrayal of the Potters' had weighed heavy on his mind: Lucius supposed that Wormtail thought freeing Harry would make everything ok again. The blond smirked and followed after the other man.

When Lucius and Barty had caught up to Wormtail they found the man cowering the middle of a corridor, muttering that he was 'sorry' over and over again. A dark haired man was practically squeezing himself threw the bars of his cell, trying to reach Wormtail to strangle him. In the cell behind Wormtail, a shorter, younger dark haired boy stood, looking on with a frown on his lips.

"Who the hell is he?" Harry asked, brushing his fringe out of his eyes.

"_Peter Pettigrew, he betrayed your parents to Voldemort_."

"Oh, so why is Sirius calling him Wormtail?" Harry asked, seemingly talking to himself.

"_They were animagi together. Wormtail was Peter's code name, the same as Padfoot is Sirius'_."

"I see." Harry took a few steps forward until he was flush to the bars of his cell. "Hello Peter." The rat-like man almost jumped through the ceiling in fright.

"H-Harry, is that you?" He reached a hand forward, attempting to brush Harry's hair off of his face.

"Don't touch him, don't fucking touch him you bastard!" Sirius screamed, throwing himself at the bars.

Suddenly Harry's eyes were red, and Tom was glaring alternatively at the two men. "If you would both compose yourself, I believe it is time to leave." With a wave of his hand, Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand appeared from thin air. Tom gripped it and waved it at the door of his cell. With a 'click' it sprung open. "Alhomora," he muttered while pointing the wand at Sirius' cell. "I assume someone is coming to free the Lestranges?"

"Yes," Lucius said with a frown, "here they come." Two more Death Eaters appeared in the corridor.

Sirius took a hesitant step out of the cell before looking at Harry. His eyes were green again, and narrowed. "You mean to tell me, you could have opened the god-damned-fucking-bastarding-cunt of a door any time you liked? Because you've had my wand on you the WHOLE TIME? Two fucking years, Tom!"

"_Language Harry_." He chided, twirling the wand lazily.

"Come here right now so I can hex you. And give me my wand back!" He stamped his foot on the floor in anger.

"Why didn't we escape sooner?" Sirius whispered, hugging his godson for the first time since he was a year old.

"That's what I want to know." The Death Eaters were watching the boy speak to himself, and many took a step back as if he were insane and contagious. "Well Tom? Why didn't we escape?"

"Where were we to escape to?" Tom Riddle was corporeal again, and standing flush to Harry's back, his arms around the teenager's shoulders. "We had no where to run, no one to help us. Why not just wait it out until Voldemort returned?"

"You're content to free load off of the Dark Lord?"

"It's not really free loading."

"Scrounging then?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

Tom sighed, "you realize you're talking about my future self?"

"So, you are still taking the cheap way out, Half-Blood Boy."

Tom growled, "don't call me that!"

"If neither of you mind my interrupting, we really must be leaving." They turned to look at Lucius, whose mask was off.

"Hey, it's Malfoys dad. Hi!" Harry gave a small wave, and Tom disappeared with a soft glow. "What now, Tom?" Sirius transformed suddenly, and in his place was a large black dog. "Come on Padfoot."

Lucius led the way back outside, Harry and his dog following, and the other Death Eaters and freed prisoners behind them. Voldemort, who smirked as he looked Harry up and down, met them.

"You lasted well." The man's voice still sounded as if he was hissing slightly.

"So I did." Bellatrix tried to throw herself forward, landing at Voldemort's feet. "Can't say the same for her, though."

"Is the itty bitty Potter jealous? He is, in't he?" She was rubbing her head against Voldemort's leg like a cat. The red eyes had gone wide as he stared down at his minion in shock.

Harry turned to smirk at Rabastian. "Deathly."

"Harry, if you could explain?" Voldemort inquired.

"That isn't my name." The boy waited for Voldemort's nod, indicating he wished to know. "I tried to anagram it like you but I ended up sounding like a German yoghurt so I decided to do something else. Tom, are you listening?" He received a mental kick in the arse. While rubbing his sore backside, Harry carried on talking. "Tom said there was a Prophecy about us, you and me, marking me out against you. And now I've been marked as a murder too."

"Go on." Voldemort said. Padfoot gave an impatient whine and nipped Harry's ankle.

He grinned, almost bouncing on the spot as he unveiled his new name. "It means to be marked, or unable to wash away. I am no longer Harry Potter. To the world, I will be known as Indelible!"

"_That is your brilliant name? All of that hype_…_ for that? Idiot!_" Tom actually hit himself in the head again.

"Oh shut up Half-Blood Boy, my name is better than yours!" Harry huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

Lucius met Bellatrix's eyes and mouthed 'half-blood boy'. Bellatrix grinned back. "He's talking about our Young Lord."

"How dare you!" Lucius said turning on Harry. "Our Lord is not a half-blood!" Lucius spit the word out like it was poison. Harry's eyes widened, unsure if he was meant to agree or tell the truth.

"Can we continue this some other time?" Voldemort drawled, drawing their attention to the consignment of Aurors that had just apparated to the edges of the Island. Among them, were members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Remus' eyes widened as he caught sight of the Grim sitting by Harry's foot. And Remus knew it was Harry, because the boy smelled just like a mixture of James and Lily, with something darker thrown in.

"_We should run now_." Tom said non-pulse. The Order had taken down the wards around the Island, so the Death Eaters disapparated together. Of course, Sirius couldn't apparate as a dog, and Harry didn't know how. So the two were left to fend for themselves, and boy would Voldemort be mad when he realized that his Horcrux had once again been left behind.

"_Give me control, Harry, now!_" Harry didn't need to be asked twice. His eyes bled to red and Tom whipped out Harry's wand and began firing spells. One hand knotted into Padfoot's fur, dragging the grim after him as he made his way to the edge of the Island. With a deep breath he jumped; Padfoot fell after him.

"Swim!" Tom shouted to Sirius. The Grim nodded and began to dog paddle to the other end of the small ocean. Unlike Harry, Tom actually could swim, but he still wasn't as good as a dog. He didn't have the natural instinct. "I think we're far enough away." They were bobbing half way between Azkaban Island and the other island. "Change back and apparate. On three."

"One," Sirius said when he was himself again.

"**Two,**" whispered Harry who was morbidly afraid of drowning.

"Three," Tom said and they both disappeared.

"Where the hell are we?" Harry asked when they landed, automatically taking control of his body.

"Woof," was the only answer he got from his pet Grim. Tom was asleep in the bed floating above the lake of water in the Chamber in Harry's head. The sixteen-year-old was exhausted.

"Damn." Harry looked around and frowned. He was in the middle of a forest. But which forest. "You don't recognize this place do you, Paddy?" The Grim shook its head. "Bugger."

Harry kind of missed the fact that Tom didn't chastise him for his language that time. With a small yawn, Harry lay down on the forest floor, curling into a ball and smiling when Padfoot lay down beside him attempting to keep him warm.

"You know what the worst thing is?"

"Woof?"

"Tom has my bloody wand again!" Harry could swear that Sirius started laughing at him. But he was just too tired to defend himself. So he went to sleep.

**XXX**

Hope you enjoyed it now that I have finally updated. College started, still working, always very, very tired… Excuses, excuses, lol.

Please review, thanks!


	6. Welcoming Gifts

Oh My Fucking God! It's been over 4 months since I updated this fic… I don't believe it! It can't have been that long…?

I don't know what to say except – Fuck Me! Sorry!

**Words: **3,496

**Chapter 6**

**Welcoming Gifts**

Voldemort and his Death Eaters arrived in Riddle Manor safely. The Death Eaters hugged their comrades, helping them celebrate their recently acquired freedom. Lucius Malfoy smiled as he removed his mask, and hugged his sister-in-law against him. Bellatrix gave him the dirtiest look known to mankind before throwing herself at the feet of Lord Voldemort.

"I knew you'd come, my Lord. I always knew it!" She wailed, clinging to the hem of his robes.

"Yup," Rabastian agreed, muttering to his brother, "and we've had to listen to it for the last thirteen years." Rudolphus snorted. Bellatrix actually hissed in their direction and continued to pet her Lord's leg. Voldemort's eyes were wide, as he looked over his assembled followers. He couldn't help but think this might be bad for his image, but fortunately for the Death Eaters, all of them were looking at him in fear.

"Wait," he said, slowly, drawing the word out as if he couldn't believe what was about to come out of his mouth. "Where's Potter?" The Death Eaters began to look around. Some actually span in circles as if he were hiding behind their backs. When none of them could see him, they turned to face their Lord, faces pale. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed. His followers had misplaced his Horcrux. "_**I'm surrounded by morons**_," he muttered in Parseltongue. His followers, thinking they were about to be cursed, threw themselves to the ground and began to beg for mercy.

"Go find him." He ordered, and they jumped to their feet. "Bring Black as well."

_XXX_

Millennia ago, a warrior had once prayed to the Dark God Anubis, begging for his life. After begin cast out into the desert he prayed for the strength to defeat his enemies and to live. And so, in return for his soul, Anubis turned the desert into an oasis. Trees grew from the sand, and rivers flowed to life, surrounding the Scorpion King with all that he needed to survive the harsh Egyptian heat. Animals appeared, and with them, strange human like creatures.

The creatures in question were rather busy chasing Harry Potter through the same oasis. "What the fuck are they?" Sirius Black screamed as a poisoned dart flew towards his arse. With a squeal he dived to the floor, panting as he jumped up again.

"I don't know," Harry shouted back, ducking behind a tree as three of the Pygmies began spitting darts at him, "just bloody run away!"

Ahm Shere was a magical place, and so the creatures that dwelt within the mysterious oasis were magical as well. And that included the Pygmies. They were barely the size of ten years olds, but they sure could run fast.

With a wail, Sirius transformed into Snuffles and hid in the hollowed out base of a tree. As a group of Pygmies ran past, still chasing Harry, Sirius jumped out and tried to bite off their legs. They snarled and cursed in their strange language. Their small hands beat the large Grim across the head, until Snuffles swung his head sideways, knocking two of them to the ground and sending a third flying. He changed back into a human mid-run and continued to run for his life. There were still fifty or so more Pygmies to go.

"Avada Kedavra!" Sirius looked forward, eyes wide as Harry's mouth screamed the words and Harry's wand released the sickly green miasma before the light shot forward and struck one Pygmie in the chest. Red eyes met Sirius' grey ones as the elder man caught up. "This is getting old." Tom said, having taken control of Harry's body. "Avada Kedavra!" He said again, his wand aimed at a creature sneaking up on Sirius from behind.

"Uh, thanks. Shall we run again?" Sirius asked, ducking behind a rather large stone as Tom continued to cast the Killing Curse over and over. Those words coming from the mouth of his godson turned Sirius' stomach but there wasn't much he could do about it. They had to save themselves. And it wasn't like it was really Harry casting that spell. It wasn't really Harry killing something.

It was Tom Riddle. And that thought helped Sirius gather the strength to stand up and raise his wand. With one more look at Harry's mouth forming those horrid words, Sirius took aim and screamed "Avada Kedavra", his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to see the jet of poisonous light erupt from the wand Tom had transfigured for him.

As it wasn't a real wand the spell didn't kill the Pygmie, but it was enough to knock it unconscious. "I need a real wand," he said with a wistful sigh.

"Now is not the time," Tom hissed through gritted teeth as Sirius began to stoke the stick in his hand.

Tom closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again he was standing side by side with Harry. With a soft smile in Harry's direction, he cast the spell again. A Pygmie fell down dead. Harry flinched slightly.

"Run, take Sirius and hide. I'll be there momentarily." Harry was about to protest when Tom's lips covered his own. With a moan, Harry wrapped his arms around Tom's neck, sufficiently distracting them both from the situation at hand. They were brought back to the present when Sirius tackled them both to the ground. "What the-?"

"Uh," Sirius pointed upwards, and Tom's eyes widened at the sight of the remaining Pygmies in a row, all with their bamboo peashooters aimed at the trio of Wizards. "Fuck?"

Fortunately, as lucky may have it, Lucius Malfoy and Rabastian Lestrange chose that moment to Portkey right between them and the Pygmies. "Thanks for that, mates." Sirius said with a grin as the Pygmies blew into the peashooters and the poisoned darts flew forward.

"Protego!" Tom cried, and a shield appeared between the two Death Eaters and the darts. Both men turned, faces pale and eyes narrowed to glare at the Pygmies. "I believe it is time to leave?"

"Hold on to this," Lucius handed a rope to the boy. Tom disappeared, returning to Harry's body and mind. Harry grabbed one end of the rope, and Sirius held on beside him. Lucius and Rabastian held on as well. The Pygmies weren't giving them time for the Portkey to activate. They each reloaded their peashooter and took aim. The Portkey activated as the four Wizards were running away, holding onto the rope and trying not to let go in case they ended up stranded.

Harry landed at the bottom of the pile when the Portkey set them off in Riddle Manor. Sirius lay on top of him, with Rabastian on top of him. Lucius stood by their side, glaring down at them. "Well that was right fun, don't you agree Harry? Tom? Black?"

"Oh yeah real fun, Ian. I really love a good old fox hunt." Sirius drawled. "Except without us as the foxes."

Rabastian shoved his shoulder as he helped Harry up. "It's people like you that ruin sport for the rest of us." Harry snorted, as did Lucius.

"Hi again, Malfoy's dad." He said, waving.

"He has a name, you know, cub." Sirius said with a smile.

"Yeah, ok, so do I…" the elder Wizards looked at each other and shrugged.

"_My Harry, you make no sense_." Tom laughed, legs folded and sitting on the bed that floated above the lake in the chamber of secrets.

"That's Lord Indelible to you," Harry raised his head, nose in the air as he spoke to Tom. "So hush." Tom chuckled lightly, thought none but Harry heard him.

"He talks to himself sometimes," Sirius informed Lucius. The blond man was staring at the teenager in horror. His usually emotionless mask had crumpled at the thought that his delay in freeing the boy had driven him insane. "He's really talking to Tom, the person who lives in Harry's head."

"Yesss, and my Horcrux," came the cold serpentine voice from behind them. They turned to face Lord Voldemort, and the two Death Eaters bowed low. Sirius tilted his head to one side, studying the elder man.

"You look a lot like Tom you know." He pointed out the obvious.

Harry laughed, "ask if they're brothers, go on, go on," he dared laughing harder.

"I wish to speak with Potter, alone." Lucius had to forcefully pull the protesting Sirius from the room. When it was just he and Harry, the Dark Lord allowed one eyebrow to rise slightly. "Alone, I said." Tom appeared beside Harry, and with a hiss he turned and stalked out of the room. Now they really were alone. "So, Mr. Potter, we meet again, the first time since that night when you defeated me."

"We met in first year." Harry reminded him. His hand clamped over his mouth as Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "But let's not talk about that."

"So, Harry Potter," he drawled as he began to circle the boy. "What use have I for you?"

"Um, well Tom said I'm not much good for anything. Oh, he said I kiss well!" The boy exclaimed innocently, not noticing the way Voldemort's eyes narrowed at the thought of anyone – even his past self – touching the beautiful boy before him. For he was beautiful, despite being dirty and covered by dust and sand.

"You need to clean yourself up. I shall take you to your rooms. They are in the family wing of the manor, as you share your body with a part of my soul." Harry smiled slightly, feeling strangely comfortable around his nemesis. "I would like to make you my Heir. There is a great possibility that I will never need use of you, but none the less, formality and etiquette require that all Lords have a living and able Heir. If you would consent to be mine, I would be grateful. I may even feel generous enough to reward you." He raised an eyebrow at the boy, taking him by the arm and leading him towards the door.

As they walked to Harry's room, Tom followed silently behind them, staring at the back of Harry's head all the while. When the two Riddles left the child in the bathroom, they turned to face one another, making sure the door was closed and silenced. "What did you do to him?" Voldemort asked after a pause.

"I did not want him to react overly. I merely laid a compulsion charm and a calming spell over him before I let him take the Portkey. It will not harm him and it will ware off by morning. It would not do to have him work himself into a state over his new living arrangements. He will be fine."

Voldemort nodded, and waved his hand. Tom snorted but took his leave, entering the bathroom and climbing into the tub with Harry. Voldemort stood outside the closed door for a few moments, wondering why he cared if there was something wrong with Potter, or not.

Ignoring it as wanting something that someone else had, he left to summon the rest of his Death Eaters. There were punishments to dole out, and a welcoming gift to collect for his new Heir.

_XXX_

When Harry was cleaned and dressed a House Elf appeared in his room and held out a black box for the boy to take. Opening the box, Harry drew in a deep breath at the sight of the beautifully crafted ring nestled in the silk lining. "It is the Heir's ring, master. I's bringing to it you on Master's orders. Yous be wearing it master." Harry slipped the white gold ring on, smiling in amazement as it shrunk to fit his thin finger. It was shiny, a soft pearl white sheen coated the white gold and Harry found himself twisting his hand around so the light reflected off the ring at different angles.

"Comes with me master, I's showing you to the throne room." The Elf bowed low and Harry grinned as he followed it from the room.

The Death Eaters, and their families waited patiently for the arrival of Harry Potter. Severus Snape's presence was notably absent. He had not been summoned, for Lord Voldemort was beginning to doubt his loyalty – after all the man did not come to his resurrection, nor to the liberation of Azkaban.

What else did a Death Eater live for than to serve his Lord? And as Severus wasn't doing a very good job of that, he couldn't honestly be considered a Death Eater.

"Hey look, it's Malfoy. Still as pretty as ever." Harry grinned at the light blush that covered Draco Malfoy's face. He shifted backwards, hiding himself slightly behind his mother. "Hi Malfoy's dad!" Harry waved, smiling brightly.

Tom's voice echoed in Voldemort's head. "_I had to add a cheering charm_." The Dark Lord just ignored the voice and hoped it would go away. Like everyone does with unwanted pests.

The Dark Lord addressed his followers, and each one of them hung onto his every word, silent and rapt with attention and affection and loyalty. "Lucius," he hissed, nearing the end of his very long speech, "I believe there is still a matter of your punishment to deal with." The man raised his head up, determined to take his punishment as he was expected to – like a Malfoy, with pride. "Young Draco, come forward."

Draco took a hesitant step forward but Lucius' grip held him back. "My Lord, please?" He whispered. The Cruciatus Curse soon sent him to the floor, screaming and flailing. Draco pressed his lips together and bit back tears as he waited for the curse to hit him. But it didn't.

"As my Heir, I feel Lord Indelible," he turned to face the boy who beamed when someone used his new name, "should be granted with some… entertainment."

"Oh no thanks. Tom said I'm entertaining enough for the both of us." Harry grinned, his head cocked cutely to one side.

"_That was an insult, my Harry_." Tom snickered, his hand over his mouth as Harry's eyes widened and his mouth opened.

"Oh!" He gasped. "And it's Indelible to you, Half-Blood Boy!" Tom growled and turned his back on the fifteen-year-old. Voldemort raised and eyebrow, his wand levelled between Harry's eyes.

"If I may continue?" He hissed, his voice dangerously low. Harry paled and took a step back.

"But Tom-" He started in a quiet voice, before pressing his lips tight together and shrugging the matter away.

"As I was saying, I feel he should have something to entertain himself with. As such, I present him you, young Malfoy. Do you wish to serve your Lords, both new and old, with as much devotion as your father and grandfather have?"

"Y-Yes?" The blond boy asked shakily.

"Good." The man smirked and before Lucius could intervene again, a wave of Voldemort's wand summoned three bands of silver. Two, smaller ones, snapped onto Draco's wrists and the larger, thicker one fastened itself around his neck. His hands tried to pry them off, in vain. Wide eyed, he faced Harry. It was Voldemort who spoke though. "Indelible, he is yours." Harry wasn't actually listening anymore. He and Sirius were actually sneaking out of the throne room, hoping they wouldn't get lost on the way back to their rooms. "Lucius, present him in two hours." The Malfoy family bowed, and hands trembling slightly they led their son from the room.

Later that night Harry lounged on his new bed, tired from spending the last hour bouncing on his new bed. Tom dozed lightly, trapped within Harry's rather warped mind. Sirius was settled in his own room, a few doors from Harry, also in the family wing.

His eyes drifted closed, but they snapped open again as someone knocked on the door. No doubt the Lestranges knew him well enough – having lived across from him for two years or so – to not knock, and no way would Voldemort himself knock, or the house elves. Sighing, Harry stood, and pulled the door open. Draco Malfoy, dressed in very little, stood shaking in front of his father. Lucius looked stonily at Harry and pushed his son forward. The boy fell to his knees, just past the threshold to Harry's room. Lucius turned and walked away. He was still close enough to hear when Draco started to sob.

"Uh…" Harry gazed at the top of the blond head, "why is Tom never awake when I need him?"

Draco looked up, still on his knees, and wiped his eyes. "I am here to serve you, my Lord." His hands reached forward, and attempted to pull down the zipper of Harry's trousers. The boy jumped backwards and left Draco in the doorway staring at him wide eyed.

"What are you doing?" Harry's voice was about three octaves higher, his heart thumped lightly as he tried to calm down from the shock of Malfoy trying to molest him.

"I am here to please you." He received a blank stare in return. "To entertain you." Harry's mouth opened and he blinked. "You were not told? My Lord?"

"I'm sure this has all been a big misunderstanding. So, you can just go and I'll sort it out later, ok?" Harry held the doorknob, keeping the door wide and Draco stood up slowly. "Go on, off you go." Harry urged, pushing Draco out of the room.

The boy suddenly flung himself forward with a cry. "No please!" His arms locked around Harry's waist. His face pressed to his stomach as he started to sob again. "They're waiting in the throne room. I'm not supposed to go back."

"Well, wait in some other room or something." Harry suggested trying to free himself from Draco's grasp.

"I have to stay with you, to serve you. I'm your gifted concubine, I can't be sent away."

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked down at the boy. He was wearing a see-through silver skirt, like something an ancient roman female would wear; it was knotted beneath his belly button, and hung to just beneath his arse. He wore no top, and the silver bracelets and collar were still fastened tight around his limbs. On each of them was carved the rune meaning 'marked', or 'owned'.

Harry helped Draco stand and led the boy to the bed. Sitting side by side, Harry urged him to talk. "It's acceptable to be sent back if you are of the wrong gender. And my Lord knows you like boys, so…" He shrugged. "Or if I displeased you."

"What happens if I send you back cause I'm displeased?" Draco started shaking again, and Harry slowly began to run his hands over Draco's back, trying to comfort the boy.

"Either I didn't try hard enough to please you, in which case I will be punished and sent back. Or I was unable to please you, in which case I will be replaced." He looked at the floor, pulling the hem of the toga down desperately trying to cover himself. Harry pulled the duvet out from beneath them, and covered Draco's legs with it. The boy smiled faintly at him.

"Well, there you go. Get replaced and I'll just keep sending them back until Old Voldy runs out of people to force on me." He grinned but Draco didn't smile back, and Harry frowned then instead. "What is it?"

"By replacing me, it is customary to kill me first." His hands were fiddling with the collar, tugging at it again. "They won't come off until my Lord releases the spell, or I die."

"Oh…" Harry sighed. "But I can be entertained however I wish right?" Draco nodded; sobbing again as he came to the conclusion that Harry would be willing to take advantage of him. "Well then, I demand you entertain me by telling me everything that has happened since I was sent to Azkaban."

Draco's hand was already reaching out for Harry's zipper when the words registered. His head snapped up, his eyes narrowed and his hand still hovering over Harry's crotch. "Huh?" He blushed a faint pink.

The next morning, when Lucius came to collect his son, he tried to hold his emotions in so he'd be able to deal with Draco's tears. Instead of the crying wreck he expected, a blond human wrecking ball, which tackled him to the ground the moment the door was opened, greeted him. Lord Indelible was still asleep, fully dressed on top of the duvet. Draco was wearing a shirt he had liberated from Harry's new wardrobe (which the house elves had arranged).

When asked if he wanted to talk, or if he wanted a hug, Draco informed his father that he couldn't wait to entertain Harry again. "He really is something else," Draco remarked, and Lucius' eyes went wide as he tried to image what his son meant, without permanently scaring himself mentally.

**XXX**

Even I am bloody well confused… so… here is a timeline. Very, very shortened down…

**2****nd**** Year!**

**CHAPTER 1**

June 1993 – Ginny died. Harry is sent to Azkaban.

CHAPTER 2 

June 1993 – Harry taught Occlumency by Tom. "Harry Is Innocent Petition" is made illegal.

**3****rd**** Year!**

**CHAPTER 3**

September 1993 – Voldemort summons Wormtail.

**3****rd****-4****th**** Year!**

**CHAPTER 4**

July 1994 – Harry's 14th birthday in Azkaban.

**4****th**** Year!**

November 1994 – Voldemort gets his wand back, after Wormtail steals it.

June 1995 – Tri-Wizard Tournament. Ron Weasley is kidnapped.

CHAPTER 5 

June 1995 – Azkaban breakout. They leave Harry and Sirius behind.

CHAPTER 6 

June 1995 – Rescued from Ahm Shere. Draco is gifted to Heir Indelible.

Thanks for reading. If you haven't already noticed, I started a new one-shot that actually seems to get updated, and it's called THE ERLKING, so go have a look see. Yeah, yeah, stole the desert thing from The Mummy Returns.

Please leave a review and let me know that I still have loyal followers :P :P (I can't believe it's been 4 months)!


	7. Integration

Again, its almost been 3 months since I updated. After my last update, I sort of didn't have anymore notes written for this fiction, so I was working spur of the moment, and then I had an idea, and I named Chapter 7 – Integration, but now I don't remember why or where I wanted to go with the story. Which is why it is so late, sorry.

Also, major, major exams coming up, and I'm failing one of four law topics, so I really have to study, so I might be pretty quiet on the update front until May 17th (which is when my exams end). When summer starts, I promise, I will update BLACK COMPLICATION chapter 2b/5 ok?

As always, feed my ego with a review. XD

_**ITALIC BOLD**_ is Parseltongue

_ITALIC_ is Tom thoughts – unless it's the Daily Prophet article.

**BOLD** is Harry thoughts

UNDERLINED are Voldemort's thoughts

**Words: **3,728

**Chapter 7**

**Integration**

Three days passed before the news of the Azkaban breakout could no longer be hidden from the public. Try as they might the Ministry of Magic, nor the members of the Order of the Phoenix could stall any longer. So, three days after wards, the Wizarding World woke up to the shock of their lives. Each and every one of them, whether they had a paying subscription to the 'Daily Prophet' or not, was woken up by an angry owl bearing a paper.

The headlines screamed at the from the page, "**IS YOU-KNOW-WHO BACK? Big Breakout From Azkaban! Death Eaters At Large!**" With a gulp, or a shudder of fear – or, for some, with a elated smile – they turned the page and began to read. They, for the most part, tried to ignore the numerous faces printed on the front cover, underneath the headline. Mug shots of each of the Lestranges', of Sirius Black, the other Death Eaters, and of course Harry Potter.

"_Last night the Ministry, headed by Minister Cornelius Fudge, and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore invited me for a chat. Now, while this may not seem unusual, as of course my company is highly sought after, but I knew there was something off about this arranged meeting. So, being the intelligent woman I am, I brought along Claude, my cameraman. It was a good thing I did, dear readers. For imagine my shock when I heard the news!_"

On the opposite page to those words was a close up of Rita Skeeter, her eyes wide and her mouth open. She blinked every three seconds in shock. Her hair had seemed to leap out of its bun in fright, before flattening itself out. Below it, were the words, "**after first hearing the news, Claude took this picture of my shocked, yet still attractive, visage**_._"

"_Azkaban has been liberated!_" People who were reading, took this moment to look at their watches – which all seemed to jump to 'mortal peril' – or to talk hurriedly in whispers with anyone close to them, or, in fact, to glare at strangers wearing black as if they were the escapees in disguise. "_Convicted followers of You-Know-Who from the first War are all unaccounted for. The Ministry has high hopes of capturing each and every escaped criminal, and they will not rest until our streets and homes are safe again._

"_I have been assured by both the Minister and by the esteemed Headmaster that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not returned. In fact, they believe that the Werewolf Fenrir Greyback was responsible for the mass breakout. Their reasoning for this was that they had intercepted an owl between Greyback and an anonymous second party, which asked for help in freeing the infamous Harry Potter from Azkaban. The Headmaster believes that the other Death Eaters who were freed were merely done so to cause panic among you fine people._

"_Harry Potter, as you will all remember, was sent to Azkaban in June of 1992 for the unproven murder of Genevra Weasley, youngest of the Weasley clan. The only person of that family who believes dearest Harry was in anyway involved was young Ronald. On that note, I also have been informed, that Ronald Weasley was killed during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but am yet unable to establish how. From what I hear, it was very painful, although it is unproven whether it was accidental or the work of more sinister forces. Perhaps the Headmaster would like to take the time to blame this crime on Harry Potter also? (Despite the fact that he was safely imprisoned when it occurred). Happily, Cedric Diggory survived intact, although the boy looked quite shell-shocked when I last saw him._"

The article had spanned at least 5 pages of the 'Prophet' and had jumped from one topic to the next. But it was obvious, that every compliment to the Headmaster was meant in a sarcastic manner. A few people had gasped and feared over the first few paragraphs, scoffed at the idea that it was the work of Harry Potter or for Harry Potter, and then laughed themselves silly through the last paragraph. Others, however, took it all very seriously.

But there were a few who began to get seriously confused.

_XXX_

Harry closed the newspaper, his own smiling face beamed up at him, and he waved back happily. Draco sat at the dining table beside him, slowly eating a bowl of cereal. His parents sat opposite them, with Voldemort at the head of the table, and Sirius at the other end, reasonably far away, which pleased Voldemort greatly.

"Decent picture, don't you reckon?" Sirius shouted up the table. He was sitting at least two feet away from the others, at the three-foot long table.

"What about bacon?" Harry shouted back. Both Voldemort and Tom, in his head, shot him glares.

"_The picture Harry, he said it's decent_." Tom gave a small sigh. He was sitting beneath the blankets on the bed, which floated above the lake in their very own Chamber of Secrets. Some people liked to have their Occlumency-provided sanctuaries look like meadows, or studies, or Merlin forbid the Gryffindor common room but Tom rather liked having theirs as the Chamber of Secrets. Only three people alive knew what that place looked like, and technically speaking Tom was two of them.

Harry grinned to Tom, tilting his head cutely as he studied the pictures again. "Tinkerbell does look a bit scary. If they wanted us to look nice, couldn't they have taken other ones?"

"I don't think-" Draco began but cut himself short when the Dark Lords eyes turned to him. Voldemort could smell a lot of things most humans couldn't. It resulted from years spent piggybacking off of snakes, rats and other animals. But he hadn't smelt sex when Lucius brought the blond boy back to the Throne Room three days ago, and nor did the child smell of sex now, which was wrong since they had spent the morning together. However, Harry smelt faintly of lust and semen.

"What was that Draco?" Harry said, not looking up from the pictures. He was busy pouring spoonfuls of Cornflakes onto Bellatrix's picture before wiping them off and doing it again. Bellatrix sneered up at him, her hair milk sodden and hanging limply.

"Nothing." The boy whispered, blushing. Narcissa looked worriedly at him, but Lucius' eyes were narrowed. There was something his son wasn't telling him, and Lucius prayed to Merlin that Draco told him before Lord Voldemort figured it out for himself.

"I think we're meant to look scary." Sirius said from down the table. Voldemort had the House Elves spell-o-tape him to the chair.

"What was that?" Harry asked back.

"I said-"

"I still can't hear you! Why are you sitting down there anyway?" Harry rolled his eyes, before dropping some cornflakes on a picture of Barty Crouch Jr., who by the by was not broken out of Azkaban that night.

"I DON'T THINK WE'RE MEANT TO LOOK NICE!" Sirius almost roared. He slumped in his chair, panting mostly from anger, while shooting the Dark Lord glares from the corner of his eyes. "PASS THE SALT!" He shouted again. He could have summoned it over, but he didn't have a wand. He wasn't allowed to go get a wand until Harry was allowed to be left alone, and that wouldn't happen until he was introduced to all the Death Eaters and integrated into the Pureblood society as it stood.

Voldemort floated the salt down the table, before tipping it harshly over Sirius' plate. Sirius reached out to grab the shaker just as the cap came loose and all of the salt the shaker held dumped down onto his mashed potatoes. Voldemort smirked maliciously, but Sirius only watched as Harry repeated the action on his Cornflakes, with the peppershaker, and together they both dug in, grimacing with every swallow. Voldemort sighed, and with a wave of his hand the House Elves replaced both plates.

"_I don't know why you bother_," Tom's voice echoed through Voldemort's head. "_They're both as stubborn as each other, more so than you and I, in fact._"

"Desist in invading my mind, you parasite." Voldemort all but snarled back at his younger self. Tom rolled his eyes, lay back in the bed in the Chamber of Secrets and went to sleep. He made sure to snore loudly, and made sure that only Voldemort could hear him.

The Dark Lord's right eye twitched once, before he stood. His chair made a scraping sound as it moved away from the table and as one the three Malfoys stood as their Lord did. Harry looked up briefly before floating his new bowl of cereal so it hovered over the picture of Bellatrix, and the adjoining two, which happened to be the Lestrange brothers. He tipped it with his finger and giggled, as the paper was soaked with milk. Bellatrix was screaming profanities that couldn't be heard, and both brothers' left their pictures to hide out in the frames of Death Eaters unknown to Harry at the edge of the paper.

Sirius didn't even bother to look up; he just carried on shovelling food into his mouth, not even stopping to swallow between mouthfuls.

"Potter, come here." Harry gave a cough, sounding suspiciously like 'hem, hem', before looking up at the Dark Lord audaciously. He even winked once. Voldemort's wand was out like a flash, pointed directly between Harry's eyes as he snarled out, "come – here – Potter!"

"Not very good at this loving father-figure thing, are you?" Tom replied, his eyes flashing red in Harry's face. "But then, I shouldn't have expected much, considering the way we were raised. Now, Harry though, sweetest child, managed to turn out all right despite living in Azkaban. Much better than living with those Muggles though, I assure you." Tom drawled, his eyes never leaving Voldemort's equally as red eyes. "Now, where are you taking Harry?"

Voldemort bit back a growl, not used to being questioned, but he supposed he might as well begin to get used to it. There was no point, after all, in arguing with oneself.

_XXX_

They were gathered in the Throne room moments later, awaiting the arrival of the other Death Eaters. None of his unmarked followers were summoned, nor any of his informants. Nor was Severus Snape, for the Dark Lord had yet to ascertain the man's true allegiance. Harry sat perched on the arm of the Dark Lord's throne – hence the name of the room – his arms crossed as he leant against Voldemort's side. The elder Wizard glared at him every so often but didn't protest, mainly because every time he opened his mouth to say something, Tom's snoring grew louder.

Lucius and Narcissa were kneeling in front of the throne, and Draco was sat cross-legged on the floor beside Harry's feet. Sirius was hiding behind the still opened door, so Voldemort couldn't see him. Of course, the Dark Lord knew he was there, he just could see how Sirius Black could be important enough for him to fret over.

Slowly those in the Inner and Outer Circle began to trickle into Riddle Manor. Each dropped to one knee as they arrived, taking the same position as the elder Malfoys. They eyed Harry warily, their sneers present as their masks only covered the top half of their faces.

The Inner Circle knew who the boy was, as they also knew the reason Draco was sat by his feet. But the Outer Circle had not been present at the meeting three days ago, so they watched suspiciously as the boy wearing a long dark green robe, the hood pulled up over his hair, slowly raised his hand to remove the ornate black onyx mask he wore. Gasps and cries rang out through the room as their eyes met those of Harry Potter. Tom, having woken up by now, let the eyes flash red briefly causing many in the room to cower.

"**Stop scaring them Tom**," Harry chastised lightly.

Tom rolled his eyes, "_Harry, remember what I taught you. Don't tell me years of lessons have gone to waste?_" Harry shook his head slightly, and in a blink of an eye all expression disappeared from the boy's pale face. He watched, stonily, as the Death Eaters slowly rose to their feet.

"Welcome, once again, my faithful, to a momentous occasion. It seems the Light has gone too far in arresting their precious boy saviour. He is, as most of you have guessed, quite innocent in terms of the deaths of both Weasley children. Lucius Malfoy is responsible for both of their deaths." Lucius ducked his head, hoping to escape any punishment the Dark Lord felt like doling out.

"Ron's dead then?" Harry asked, his tone light, almost unconcerned, but there was a slight undertone of something that Voldemort couldn't place. Maybe he thought it was anger because it pointed towards Lucius.

"Answer your Lord's question Malfoy." Voldemort ordered.

His face paling further, Lucius spoke. "Yes, my Lord Indelible."

"Was it painful?" Harry wasn't even looking at him, Lucius noted. Instead the boy had leant down to run his fingers through Draco's hair. As he did so Draco, who had been extremely tense, began to relax.

"Y-Yes?" Lucius answered not quite sure what to say.

Harry smirked up at him, their eyes meeting for a moment before Lucius lowered them in submission. "Did you hear that Tom? Now you don't have to worry about killing him anymore, and I don't have to listen to you rant! I think you owe Malfoy's dad a 'thank you'." Harry began to rub his forehead, and Tom bashed his own head repeatedly off of Harry's brain. "Ow, stop it. Stupid Half-Blood Boy!"

Most of the Death Eaters looked confused or worried, the odd few looking more afraid of Harry than they did of Voldemort. The whispers of "insane", "Azkaban" and "Potter" travelled through the room until the Dark Lord's gaze silenced them.

"Don't mind him," Voldemort drawled, shooting his Heir a very annoyed glare, "he's not quite right in the head."

"Oi!" Harry shouted, eyes narrowing. His hand jumped to cover his mouth as he realized whom he was talking to, "uh?" Voldemort's fingers squeezed the armrests of his throne as he desperately tried not to roll his eyes, or do anything so extremely plebeian. His hand hit Harry in the arse, as the boy was sitting on the armrest, and the soon-to-be fifteen-year-old squeaked in surprise and fell off the armrest. He landed neatly in Draco's lap. "Oh, hello." He said brightly, his arms going around Draco's neck so they didn't topple over, but otherwise he was more than happy to sit there.

Voldemort's hand twitched, itching to rub his temples or grab his wand and hex someone. No one knew for sure, except maybe Tom but he wasn't sharing that information. "May I present Lord Indelible? He is to be treated with the same respect accorded to me, or there will be some serious consequences, is that understood?" While the Death Eaters bowed again and began their customary "of course, My Lord," and "yes, Sir", Voldemort slipped into Parseltongue and said to Harry, "_**even if he is a complete imbecile.**_"

"_**Aw, you know you love me really**_," the boy shot back with a cheeky grin, comfortable in teasing the Dark Lord as long as his followers couldn't hear or understand. The Dark Lord just settled for giving the underage Wizard a very lecherous grin, causing Harry to blush.

"That look suits you," Voldemort whispered, so only Draco and Harry could hear.

Fortunately, Harry was saved from answering when Sirius burst forward from behind the open door, slamming it shut in the process and screaming, "constant vigilance!" He then burst into hysterical laughter, and the only other person to find it remotely funny was Voldemort, but then again, he was laughing at Sirius not with him. He was also imagining fun and painful ways for Sirius to die by his wand. With a lot of screaming. And blood.

The Death Eaters had their wands pointed at Sirius, but Harry's cold command of "lower them" soon had them dropping into a bow, begging for forgiveness. "Rise," he added after a moment of allowing Tom to bask in their obvious fear. "Sirius open that door now."

Sirius grinned, saluting Harry with the transfigured wand he had kept with him since Ahm Shere, and shouted, "Sir, yes Sir!" Ten minutes of running his hands over the metal door later, and Sirius turned around crestfallen. "There's no lock. How come there's no lock?" This sent the other, newer Death Eaters into a panic, and they ran to the door, knocking each other out of the way as they cast spell after spell at the door trying to unlock it.

"Are they always this stupid?" Tom asked coldly, his red eyes narrowed at the frightened mass.

"The new ones more so than the others," Voldemort allowed with a uncaring shrug of his shoulders, "but they all learn in time." His wand was out, and with a quick 'Crucio' all of the Wizards were away from the door and bowing by his feet. "If there was even half a brain between you all, you would recall me warning you that this door only opens from the outside, unless you are a Parseltongue." He 'Crucioed' them once more then hissed for the door to open, which it did. "Dismissed."

"Now that Harry has met all of your mentally challenged followers," Voldemort raised an eyebrow at the comment, before turning his gaze to Sirius who was cackling madly by the door. "Ignore him." Tom grunted. "As I was saying, now that Harry has been introduced to them, perhaps a Ball would be in order?"

"How would you suggest we allow an escaped criminal out in polite society?" Lucius drawled from where he stood. Draco looked up at his father, Harry still in his lap.

"In disguise of course. I know very well that you go out in public addressed as Marvolo Hayes, perhaps Harry can be your son?" Hayes was an old branch of Wizarding family that died off not long before 'Gaunt' took up the Slytherin line. Technically speaking, if not for his sometime great-grandmother marrying a Gaunt, Voldemort would have been a Hayes. And it was far back enough that no one would connect it, not even the great Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry Hayes?" Harry said with a snort, "I think not, Tom." He had taken over his body again.

"_Any better ideas, oh wise and brilliant one?_" Tom said with a slight frown.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Half-Blood Boy." Tom didn't even bother to react verbally, he just turned his back on Harry and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. "What about Dorian Grey?"

"What part of 'Hayes' did you miss, boy?" Voldemort leant forward in his throne, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Say I have my mother's name, or something. The name isn't as funny without the 'Grey' part." Voldemort waved his hand, silently demanding an explanation. "You know, the book, 'The Picture of Dorian Grey' or 'The Portrait of' or something. He is an immortal, whose soul or something lives inside a portrait of him. If he ever looks at the picture he died and the portrait gains his eternal youth. I'm not really Dorian Grey, so I wont die as him, which means that, in a way Dorian Grey is immortal, like the story, right?" Harry tilted his head sideways, his green eyes wide and bright, and Voldemort swallowed reflectively. No one had ever looked at him like that in his whole life – so innocent, and carefree. It was enlightening.

"I suppose. Your mother was named Emily Grey; she used to live in England but moved to Russia in order to attend Durmstrang. We met, you were conceived, and she concealed you from me. She has recently passed away and the Russian Ministry sent you to live with me."

"Aw, damn." Harry pouted. "My mother-figures just keep dying." He looked to Sirius with a pout. The man was instantly at Harry's side, squishing both him and Draco into a hug.

Ignoring them, Voldemort continued to talk. "You look enough like me that only a few changed will be required. They will be permanent. I shall make the potion myself, and I shall require a few drops of your blood." Harry nodded, his face pressed to Sirius' chest still. "Good, then I suppose you may go do something else until the potion is ready."

"Can I leave the Manor?" Harry asked, eyes wide as he pulled back from Sirius.

Voldemort nodded, "but stay close by. When the potion is complete then you may accompany someone into Diagon Alley. Black, I suppose you must go and get another wand, no one wants to have to defend you. Lucius!" The blond man bowed slightly, "you will accompany them. You may bring Narcissa and Draco if you like." Both of the other blond's nodded quickly in agreement.

"And then," Sirius grinned, "Indelible needs a coming out Ball!" He grinned and rubbed his hands together thinking of the mischief he could cause.

"Yes, he will. And you, Black, will be supervised at all times." Voldemort hissed angrily. Sirius frowned in disappointment.

"Why am I coming out? Of the closet? But I don't even know if I like girls yet!" He frowned. "It's been three years since I saw a girl, and Bella doesn't count. Or you, Malfoy's mum." He blinked slowly. "But Tom is nice, and he feels good. And Draco is rather comfortable too." He wiggled in Draco's lap, and the blond blushed wildly.

"Ok, enough, more than I needed to know." Sirius said. He grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him up and pushing him to the door. "Let's go flying or something. Haven't flown in like fourteen years."

"Me either. But not the fourteen years part." Harry reached back to grab Draco, pulling the blond after them. The elder Malfoys were dismissed as well.

The blond was becoming something of a shadow where Harry was concerned, but still Voldemort could not smell anything resembling lust or attraction between them. It was very vexing to know that his orders were being disobeyed.

**XXX**

The next chapter will involve a long-overdue visit to Diagon Alley and Gringotts for both of our recently imprisoned Wizards, as well as Harry's (or Dorian's) Ball. More of Voldemort and Lucius trying to figure out what Harry and Draco are up to as well.

Thanks, as always, to you stalkers out there – you know who you are! :) Constant reviewers are the best kind.


	8. Hayes The Man

REPOST: I got some of the dates wrong in regards to how long Harry was in Azkaban for. Just clearing it up.

I meant meters, whenever I mentioned feet during the last chapter. Distance is relative apparently. And, Dorian Grey actually died when he stabbed his portrait (damn the LXG, getting it wrong).

AN: "Hayes the Man", sort of a joke. Marvolo Hayes aka Voldemort. Hayes or He's, as in he's the man. Am I the only one who finds that funny?

**Words: **4,560

**Chapter 8**

**Hayes The Man**

6th July 1995.

The potion was ready, and just in time as well. It was taking all of Voldemort's self restraint to stop himself from killing Sirius Black, or hexing Harry at the least. Both of them had spent far too long locked up inside Azkaban, and neither was amenable to the idea of being locked up in Riddle Manor either. But until the potion was ingested, and Harry was introduced to Society they couldn't afford to be let run loose. Anyone could take it into their heads that Harry and Sirius actually were Harry and Sirius!

With a smirk, Voldemort bottled the potion, into two separate vials and left them to set. He would get the required blood and mix it in just before Harry was to consume his. Black's could possibly wait a little longer. Voldemort did not need another reason to seek out and spend time with the very annoying other man.

Unlike Harry. Over the past week, he had found himself repeatedly seeking Harry out. There was one day when he and Harry had spent hours talking about books and poetry. "The Picture of Dorian Grey" had come up at one point. Tom had materialized and had stood behind Harry with one arm around the youngests waist and the other hand holding open a book.

"You know, Dorian had to stab his portrait before he could die." Tom drawled waving the book.

"You only just read that now!" Harry accused. Voldemort watched on, partly in amusement but there was also some jealousy there. "And anyway, how was I supposed to know? You're the reason I spent five years in Azkaban! Where would I have time to read?"

"Three actually."

"Really? It seemed longer." Harry hummed lightly before turning to Voldemort. "Did you ever read the book?" And from there the conversation had branched out into other types of literature, different authors and titles. It was one of Voldemort's most memorable conversations, because just before Harry and Tom left the room, Harry pressed a small kiss to Voldemort's cheek and whispered, "thanks, for taking care of me."

There had been other days when Voldemort had sought Harry out in the hopes of being kissed again. But he never did get another kiss. With a smirk, he contemplated the consequences of this potion. If Harry ingested it, he would look like Dorian Grey-Hayes, Marvolo's son. But, they wouldn't actually be related. So it wouldn't matter if Voldemort wanted nothing more than to pin the boy down and ravish him. But would it matter to Harry?

And of course there was the matter of Draco Malfoy. His being gifted to Harry was meant to be a punishment, but the boy didn't seem to be suffering very much. In fact the blond almost seemed elated every time his father brought him to Riddle Manor. Voldemort was a possessive and jealous person. He was now, and he had been when he was younger, and from what he had gathered of Tom's feelings for Harry, Voldemort could not understand how Tom could bare to share Harry with Draco. And he didn't know if he was able to either. Whenever his red eyes fell on the couple they narrowed. It wasn't so bad when Harry was pressed against Tom, because after all it was simply foolish to be jealous of yourself. But Draco – he was another matter entirely, and Voldemort was unsure of what to do.

He had gifted the boy as a punishment, in the hopes that Harry would decline him, and Lucius would be forced to watch his son die for his mistakes. But Harry kept the boy, but he did not seem to be using the boy, which went against Voldemort's specific orders. He hated having his orders not followed.

It mattered not, at the moment. Soon, Voldemort would know exactly what was going on.

_XXX_ - mild slash

6th July 1995.

Draco was at that moment relaxing in the bath. With a soft smile, he thanked the gods that Harry was such a forgiving person. He had no wish to be murdered or to have someone force themselves on him. But a nice bath, well, he wouldn't complain about that. Even though, despite the silencing charms, Harry was loud enough to hear through the wall.

Draco gave a soft smirk at the thoughts of what Tom was doing to Harry. How Voldemort could believe Harry could dominate anyone, Draco would never understand.

Harry arched his back, giving a loud cry as Tom's fingers wormed their way inside of him. His legs were spread and both boys were completely naked. Tom hovered over the younger boy, smirking. It was true that Tom was older, but Harry was almost fifteen now, the same age as Tom looked.

A kiss stole Harry's breath and the boy arched his back again, begging for more attention. Tom's other hand wrapped around Harry's cock, stroking it in long, firm tugs, each pull wringing a cry from the boy's petal pink lips. "Tom please," he breathed, as Tom pulled his fingers back. The hand continued to stroke Harry though, as Tom lined himself up. With a gasp, he surged forward and Harry found himself blissfully filled.

"Harry," he breathed, "love you." It was the first time Tom had said it, and meant it. Harry smiled shyly up at him, before raising his head to beg for another kiss.

"Love you too," he panted as they rocked together for only the third time. They had only started making love since moving into Riddle Manor. While Tom was sure Voldemort knew something funny was going on, he simply didn't care as long as Harry was still willing to be with him.

They came together, their chests heaving and their breathing ragged. Tom collapsed onto Harry, his fingers running through the boy's messy hair. "I love you," he whispered again, before sensing the presence of someone else in the room.

He looked up and met Voldemort's narrowed gaze. "It seems I was right."

Harry was practically purring, as Tom's fingers carded through his hair and across his cheek and neck. "Hello Marvolo. What are you doing here?"

"The potion is ready," he muttered stiffly, while glancing at the closed bathroom door.

"Should I start calling you father?" The look of horror that crossed both the younger and older Riddle's faces caused Harry to burst out laughing.

"Why would you ask something like that while in bed with me? With his younger self?" Harry shrugged and kissed Tom lightly, to shut him up.

"He's insane," Voldemort said, looking horrified still.

Harry merely giggled and pushed Tom off of him, "I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.**1**"

Tom rolled his eyes in response, "Ordinarily he is insane, but he has lucid moments when he is only stupid.**2**" Harry's mouth dropped open in shock and Voldemort actually let out a chuckle. Tom felt very pleased with himself. He had successfully distracted Voldemort from taking out his anger on Draco. Providing the boy stayed in the bathroom until Voldemort left, the blond would stay safe.

Of course, as is always the way, when you want one thing, the opposite happens.

A soft knock came at the bathroom door, "are you guys done?" Followed the soft voice, and Voldemort's expression became murderous again.

He tugged the door open and caught the fully dressed Draco by the collar and dragged him from the bathroom. "Crucio!" He shouted, smirking viciously as the boy writhed and shrieked on the floor.

"Stop it," Harry cried before throwing himself in front of Draco, still naked. Tom watched unfazed from the bed. The sheets were by his feet, and he was bare as the day he was born, but he didn't seem to care. Everything he had to show, Voldemort had grown up seeing. He had nothing to be ashamed of. "Stop it," Harry cried again, and Voldemort lifted the curse. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Draco sobbed, his arms coming to wrap around Harry's waist, his face pressed to Harry's stomach as the brunette turned to comfort the boy.

"He disobeyed orders, and must be punished accordingly."

"You told him to please me, to entertain me. Well he does." Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "He tells me things, things that none of you will, about what happened while I was in Azkaban, about my friends. Trust me, he entertains me."

"And why should I trust you, Harry Potter?" Voldemort lowered his wand and raised one eyebrow. "I trust no one by myself."

"Too right, but you forget, I am you. Or at least a part of you." Their eyes turned to Tom, and Voldemort knew, regardless of whether Tom was him or not, the other part of his soul would side with Harry.

"Very well." His wand touched the crown of Draco's head and the boy let out a frightened gasp as his throat and wrists began to heat up. Voldemort snarled, "leave," and Draco jumped away from Harry and ran from the room. He didn't seem to notice that the bracelets and the collar were lying on the floor at Harry's feet. "He no longer belongs to you."

"Very well, but he's still my friend."

Harry went into the bathroom to get dressed and Tom sighed and stood from the bed. "Why do you care about Malfoy?" Voldemort asked curiously.

"I do not. I care for Harry, and Harry cares for Draco, and so I do what I must to make sure the person I care about is happy." He was dressed when he heard Harry speaking to him.

"**Is he still being a prick?**"

"_No, I think he's calmed down. Come, take your potion so we can have your Ball and be done_." Tom folded his arms over his chest as he faced Voldemort. "We'll have to take him shopping first. He has nothing to wear to a Ball."

"The potion first," Voldemort reminded, not having heard the mental conversation.

"Naturally," he drawled with a smirk as Harry emerged from the bathroom and rushed over to hug Tom.

"I am sorry, Harry." Voldemort actually twitched as he said the s-word.

"You don't owe me an apology." His eyes narrowed in a way that suggested Voldemort should apologize to Draco soon. "Where did Draco go? I thought he was coming shopping with us?"

"Potion first." Both Riddles said together. "I'll fetch Black, you bring him to the study." Voldemort added.

_XXX_

7th July 1995.

The potion had worked the way it was expected to. Voldemort's blood had been added first, and then Harry's. When Harry had swallowed it the effects had begun to set in instantly. The boy was now about three inches taller and his hair had lost the 'Potter' look, instead it hung to his shoulders and was straight with a slight curl at the end. His eyes were still green, but so had Tom's been. His face was narrower, his cheekbones more defined, but otherwise he looked the same as always.

It had been much harder to get Sirius to drink his potion. Instead of adding Voldemort's blood, they had Narcissa volunteer some of hers before forcefully adding Sirius' and making him drink it. The fact that Narcissa was his cousin meant that not much of Sirius' looks would change, but enough to make him passable in a public place. His hair was a shade or two lighter, and instead of grey eyes, his were now the same shade of pale blue as Draco's mother. He was a tiny bit shorter now as well.

"Sirius Grey," Voldemort smirked slightly, "an unfortunate name considering, but it is very good of you to accompany my son here, so soon after the unfortunate death of your sister."

"Yes, yes," Sirius groused. "I'll miss Emily loads, but I wasn't going to let them ship her kid off to parts unknown alone."

Harry sighed. "Try to act like you actually miss Emily ok? I mean, mum." Tom snickered, in Harry's head, because it was now Harry who wasn't trying hard enough. "Shut up Tom." He hissed menacingly.

Harry watched Draco out of the corner of his eyes. The blond was practically hiding behind both of his parents. Narcissa looked thrilled that Draco had been freed; while Lucius looked terrified that something worse was in store. Draco met his gaze and smiled.

'Still friends?' Harry mouthed and Draco nodded back, still smiling softly.

Their trip to Diagon Alley had gone without incident. Lucius and Narcissa accompanied Draco, Harry and Sirius around the stores. As Draco was more Tom's size than Harry was, he was forced to try on clothes for himself and for the other Wizard, not that he minded much. Harry and Sirius had to be held in place while they were forced to fit clothing on.

"Hey Dorian?" He turned to face Draco. "Want to talk about it?" Harry just shook his head. "It is a common delusion that you make things better by talking about them,**3**" Draco insisted.

"It's stupid," Harry said with a laugh, "but I'm terrified I'm going to mess everything up by forgetting that my name is Dorian, or by defending myself when people start bad mouthing Harry Potter."

"You'll be fine. You'll have me, and you only have to get through one night at the Ball." Harry reached over and gave Draco a quick hug. He pulled back with a groan, as Madame Malkin came towards them with an armful of more clothing.

They got their wands next and Tom came forward, borrowing Harry's body to test out a new wand. He didn't want to keep using Harry's because if they ever got separated Harry would be wandless. Sirius Grey bought a new wand as well. "Goodbye Mr Black, Mr Riddle," Olivander said with a smirk as they left. Both men cursed softly as they left the shop.

The Ball was set for the following night, and everyone who was anyone was there.

Harry, however, was desperately trying to get out of it. He was supposed to be down stairs in exactly twenty minutes, but he still wasn't dressed and Tom and Draco were having a hell of a time forcing him into his robes. "No! I'll trip over them and fall down the stairs!"

"Fine, these robes?" Tom suggested holding up another set.

"No! I'll look fat in those!" He whined. "People will laugh."

Draco sighed, "these ones?"

"Couldn't I just not go?" Both of the other Wizards glared at him.

Harry finally settled on a deep emerald robe, which was open down the front except for two buttons just above his diaphragm. Underneath he wore a much simpler black robe that was complete buttoned up and acted as a petticoat of sorts. The emerald robe trailed on the floor behind him and was very loose, while the black one was tight and clung to all of the boy's curves, before loosening at the feet so Harry could walk. An emerald ribbon was tied into the left side of Harry's hair, tying it so the scar was covered.

Salazar Slytherins locket hung around his neck, the gold serpent pendant resting above his heart, and the buttons of the robe. A silver ring, with a green stone, the colour of Harry's eyes, rested on his right hand. It had the Hayes family crest engraved into the stone, and the words **Aut captantur, aut captant** **4** engraved into the silver ring. It was, apparently, the Hayes family motto, which was handed down to the Gaunt family, and before that, handed down from the Slytherin family. Black dragon hide boots completed the outfit.

"You look gorgeous." Draco breathed, before turning to Tom. "You're really lucky."

"And he loves me, too." Tom quipped with a soft smile at the blushing brunette. Harry ducked his head.

"Come on, before I'm late." Tom faded away, and the familiar presence was once again pressing against his mind, calming Harry instantly. Draco took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

They may not have been friends before Azkaban, but after being given to Harry and expected to service him, but never actually being put through that, had shown Draco a side to Harry he had always wanted to get to know. The loyal part of the boy, that heroic portion of the Gryffindor's soul. And Draco was very proud to call Harry his friend now.

Heaven's Haze was the name of the Manor in which the party was to take place. It had once belonged to the Hayes family, but now Voldemort had full possession of it, and whenever Marvolo Hayes needed to make an appearance – for it was well known that the man travelled – Heaven's Haze was where his mail was directed. And tonight, for one night only, it housed most of the Wizarding World.

They were all gathered to celebrate the coming out of Marvolo's recently found son. And of course, everyone was instantly curious as to where this boy had come from, whether he was adopted, hidden away for his own protection, or merely a bastard heir. It mattered not what the answer was, people just wanted to say they'd been there, for the sake of being there of course.

Harry licked his lips, and, still holding Draco's hand, they made their way to the entrance hall. Sirius and Voldemort, as well as Draco's parents, met them. "You ok?" Harry just nodded and Draco let go of his hand. The doors opened and the Malfoy's entered first.

Sirius squeezed his shoulder lightly, "you know, now you'll have to call me Uncle Sirius." Harry elbowed him lightly but laughed.

"Are you ready?" Voldemort asked and Harry nodded. "You may call me Marvolo, it will be acceptable, as we have just 'met'." Unknown to nearly everybody, Voldemort was able to change his appearance at will. A much stronger version of Tonks' Metamorphimaus ability. He now looked, much like he always did, but his eyes were the same burning emerald colour as Harry's, and his lips were the same petal pink. Harry frowned. Voldemort looked much nicer with the almost red colour lips he and Tom shared.

The doors opened once again, and a house elf called out, "may I introduce Marvolo Hayes, our host." Voldemort walked forward, his eyes swept over the crowd. He looked slightly surprised to see nearly all of the Order of the Phoenix there, including Dumbledore. "May I introduce Master Dorian Grey, our hosts son, and his uncle Sirius Grey?"

Both entered the room. Voldemort's hand was on Harry's shoulder, and he noticed with some amount of jealousy how much attention Harry's looks received. "Stay close to Draco." Voldemort hissed. People knew better than to try and take something from a Malfoy, and Voldemort couldn't very well claim his 'son' for himself.

Sirius walked forward, ignoring every single part of his upbringing that screamed to wait for the host to descend the stairs first, and with a chuckle he sat on the banister… and slid down.

Voldemort, and most of the crowd, watched in shock and dismay. But Harry giggled which made Sirius almost glow in happiness. Harry and Voldemort walked slowly down the stairs. Voldemort walked slowly, because it was decorum, and Harry walked slowly because he was terrified of tripping. He hadn't worn robes like these ever, and he hadn't had to go near stairs since before Azkaban.

When they reached the bottom every body began to clap lightly, and Voldemort led the boy towards the Malfoys. Everyone they passed on the way gave a polite bow. Voldemort left Harry with Draco, before leaving them in order to answer questions he knew many people would have.

Harry and Draco grinned at each other. "Can we go?" Draco asked his parents. Narcissa nodded immediately, but Lucius gave them a searching look. "We're not going to do anything. I thought I could introduce him to some of my friends." Lucius finally nodded. "Come on, Dorian."

The night was half way through, and Voldemort had answered most people's questions to their satisfaction. However, just when they all thought it was going so well, a hand closed over Harry's arm and pulled him away from Draco. He was lost in the crowd almost immediately. He spun around angrily, very glad he was able to exchange Tom's new wand with the other boy, like they used to do with his. It hadn't occurred to him to get a new wand: people would recognize Harry's old one.

"What do you think you're doing?" He growled, the long yew wand didn't waver in the slightest even as he took in the nervous faces of Fred and George Weasley. Beside them, wringing her hands was Hermione Granger.

"Harry? Is that you?" She whispered as Fred's hand shot forward and pulled at the emerald ribbon. His fringe fluttered, revealing his scar briefly before Harry spelled the ribbon back into his hair.

"My name is Dorian Grey."

"Yes, yes, 'the portrait of', very funny." Hermione said with a smile. "We've missed you so much. We tried so hard to get you out of Azkaban, but Dumbledore always stopped us. Remus even asked the Werewolf Alpha for help, and Remus hates Greyback." She pulled him against her in a crushing hug. By now, people had started to turn and watch her.

With a growl, Voldemort advanced on them. "If you wouldn't mind, remove your hands from my son." Hermione squeaked but let go nonetheless as Voldemort glared at each of the three in turn. "Dorian?"

"I'm fine," the boy smiled. He was slightly shaken by the fact that his old friends seemed happy to see him, but he had to remind himself that they weren't his friends anymore. He had Draco, and Tom, and Sirius, and that was all he needed.

"But, his scar!" Fred protested obviously not catching on that Harry was a wanted criminal in hiding.

"His scar?" Voldemort snarled, his eyes flicking towards it briefly before they shot back to the redheaded boy. The boy's mother was there now, while his father and Lucius glared angrily at one another. Draco's arm came around Harry's waist again. He was obviously the more dominant of the two when left to his own devices.

"That is a funny story, actually." Sirius said coming up behind the group. "I remember like it was yesterday. Dorian was eight, and Emily, my sister, was reading about your famous Harry Potter in our paper, 'Arc Angel'. Dorian was of course enthralled. He went on for days about wanting a scar just like Potter's. Then, and this is the funny part, about a week later Emily was reading the paper again, and Dorian took it from her and ran off to read it himself. And he tripped, and fell head first out of the window. He's lucky to be alive, if it wasn't for Emily's pet griffin, well, Dorian would be kaput as we say back in Russia." Sirius paused for emphasis. "And now, he has a scar just like Potters."

"Yes, very amusing to hear about how my son nearly died." Voldemort rolled his eyes.

Sirius merely grinned, "I have plenty of stories like that one. Dorian was always almost dying." He punched Harry lightly in the shoulder with a grin. Dorian merely grinned back. How Sirius came up with such a random story on the spot like that, he would never know, but he was grateful for it. "There was this one time-"

Voldemort steered Draco and Harry away, leaving the others to listen to Sirius prattle on. "Malfoy," Voldemort started but was interrupted by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore.

The man stood beside them, grinning, with Severus on one side of him and Minerva on the other. "Now my boy, it's good to meet you. Dorian wasn't it?"

"Yes sir," he tried not to curse the old man. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Well, Dorian, I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts this coming year." Albus' eyes twinkled.

"Hogwarts?" Voldemort growled.

Severus sneered, "yes, Hogwarts, Marvolo. He looks to be a fifth or sixth year."

"Fifth," Minerva said with a small glare at Dumbledore. Obviously the boy had not intended to go to the school, his father had probably arranged to have him home schooled. It was very unbecoming to force this conversation on some body.

"Yes, well, you must attend now that you've been invited especially, you know." Dumbledore smirked. He held no love for Marvolo Hayes, and was enjoying the way the man's hands clenched at his sides. Dorian looked a little uncomfortable, but strangely, the boy also looked excited.

"If Marvolo agrees," Dorian whispered before turning to watch the man. Draco looked faintly pleased by the conversation, as his eyes met the Dark Lord's as well.

"We shall see." Voldemort hissed, before taking both boys by the elbow and leading them away. They looked up in time to see Remus Lupin throw himself at Sirius.

"Hey Moony," Sirius whispered. "Long time no see."

"Missed you Padfoot," the Werewolf whimpered hugging the man tighter. "Sirius Grey!" He shouted, making a show on purpose. "How dare you not write to me in so long?"

"I didn't want to upset you. It's a little difficult having the same name as that murder ex-friend of yours." Sirius shrugged and grinned when Remus frowned at his words.

"Old friends, are we?" Voldemort drawled as he stopped beside them. "Good, then Lupin you are expected to watch over my son at Hogwarts next year." He pushed Dorian towards the Werewolf, turned on his heel and stormed towards the liquor cabinet.

"You're going to Hogwarts?" Remus and Sirius both asked in surprise.

"So it seems." Harry grinned at Draco. "Hope I'm in Slytherin."

"You are the man!" Sirius gave him a high five.

Draco smirked slightly, before looking at the blue eyes man. "Yes, Hayes the man." Harry frowned briefly, trying to working it out, or sharing the joke with Tom, one or the other. But moments later, he burst into giggles, which set Draco off, as well as Sirius.

Lucius and Narcissa approached them a moment after they had composed themselves. "You're engaged." Lucius told his son. The boy's mouth dropped open and his face paled.

"I'm fifteen!" He protested.

"The Dark Lord has engaged you to Dorian. As such you will be sharing a suit at Hogwarts, with a teacher of your choice."

Draco seemed to realize it was only to protect Harry, and he was not actually meant to get married so soon. With a nod towards the brunette, he waited for Harry to choose. "Remus, if you wouldn't mind."

"I'd be honoured, master Dorian." Remus smirked in Sirius' direction.

The man was pouting. He cast a wary glance in Voldemort's direction before asking, "as Uncle and Godfather, and boyfriend to the teacher, can I visit?"

"NO!" Voldemort's voice travelled across the room, as if he were standing right beside them. Sirius scuffed his shoes off the floor as he sulked, and Dumbledore looked over with a frown on his face only to be met with smirking faces from Draco, Harry and Remus. He briefly wondered if he was in too far over his head, before he shook the thought off.

No, he was doing the right thing. That boy could be perfect as their next saviour. He only needed the right encouragement.

**XXX**

**1 **_I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity – Edgar Allen Poe. _

**2 **_Ordinarily he is insane, but he has lucid moments when he is only stupid – Heinrich Heine. _

**3** _It is a common delusion that you make things better by talking about them – Dame Rose McCaulay._

**4** Aut captantur, aut captant: You're either betrayed, or you betray

Anyway, thanks again, and please keep reviewing. Don't forget, the boys are going into their Fifth year now.

I have an idea for a new fiction that came to me in a dream, honestly. It's called "**Soul Seeker**" unless I think up anything better, and the summary is as follows:

**Summary:** HP/DM Harry didn't watch Severus die, so he never learnt that he was a Horcrux. When Voldemort was defeated Harry made sure not to get hit by the Killing Curse, and therefore a part of Voldemort's soul still lives on inside him. When Draco is freed of the Dark Mark, his Veela heritage starts to search out his Mate, but his Mate's soul isn't calling out to his own like it's meant to. Instead, the Horcrux is calling out to Voldemort's soul, and Harry's scar is still hurting. All is not well. Alternative ending to DH. No Epilogue.

What do you think? Original enough a Veela fiction for you? I'll probably start it after my exams, but only if people want me to, otherwise it will have to wait until _**The Erlking**_ and _**Indelible**_ are finished.


	9. Home Sweet Home

Hey all

Hey all. Sorry about the wait, I had to do some major exams for college. They are over now, so the only thing getting in the way of me updating is work (and a social life, on occasion lol).

Just to let you know, I'm planning on doing BLACK COMPLICATION next, and then a couple of one-shot sequels (to previous one-shots: mainly, WHORE 7 h/l; or the sequel to I WANT TO LOVE YOU d/h; or sequel to IT MUST BE LOVE l/h.)

Going on holiday from May 29th to May 31st, so there wont be any updates then. Just letting you know. Please read the a/n at the bottom.

I'm seriously confused… it's very hard to write two stories that are similar (Indelible and The Erlking). I can't remember how old Harry is here. I said he was 16 in the last chapter, but I think he's going into 5th Year – huh!

Ok, I just read through the entire fiction. HARRY IS FIFTEEN, AND GOING INTO 5TH YEAR. Just so we're all up to date.

Last chapter took place in July. It is August now.

**Words: **2,615

**Chapter 9**

**Home Sweet Home**

August 31st 1995.

Malfoys were always fashionably late, but that didn't mean they were ready on time. Rather they just chose to wait outside for a few minutes longer. Harry Potter however was, apparently, going to be late for his own funeral at this rate. They were to leave for the Hogwarts Express from Riddle Manor, so the Malfoy family were staying in guest rooms at present.

Tom lounged on the bed, smirking as Harry ran back and forth across the room, fell to his knees, crawled under the bed and emerged victorious.

"The last twenty-three minutes and nineteen seconds were spent looking for that?" Draco sneered, arms folded across his chest. Now that he was no longer bound to Harry he was starting to resemble the Draco he was when Harry was still at Hogwarts. Well, ok, he was a little nicer.

Harry waved the sock at Draco, the hole in its heel gaping like an open mouth. "What? I hate having odd socks!"

"Pack your trunk!" Draco hissed. His own had been packed for a day, and was lying by his feet on the floor. The blond took a seat beside Tom on the bed. Tom still looked sixteen, but he should have been nineteen by now. Draco wondered if he was ever going to age; but then, that's what aging potions are for.

"Just because you're a strange, getting-everything-done-early person, doesn't me we all are!" Harry huffed, throwing the holey sock into his trunk.

"Fold your clothes," Draco drawled, his eyes wide with horror. "I can not believe," he muttered as he got off of the bed. He shoved Harry out of the way and started packing the trunk for him. "Were you this bad before?" Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Hey Dray?" He asked, sitting on the bed and leaning into Tom's side. "How come I have to go to Hogwarts?"

"For an education, you dimwit." The blond snarled, meticulously folding Harry's school robes. The crests were all blank; and would automatically gain the symbol of whatever House he was sorted into. "Because you were invited," he added on seeing Tom's glare.

"Everyone gets invited if they get a letter don't they?"

Draco stopped packing and moved to stand in front of his friend. "When you get a letter, it is the parents discretion to deny or allow their child an education at Hogwarts. If, like Dumbledore did, you are asked personally it's taken as a very great slight to not attend. Dumbledore was bestowing an honour on you, inviting you to attend a school that did not invite you at 11-years-old. If you refused, it would be an insult to his generosity, and an insult you your family name. If your father refused for you, it could be considered an insult to you."

"Like he was implying I wasn't good enough?"

"Exactly. It's complicated, and you have to go so don't complain." The blond continued to pack for Harry.

Tom was smirking, "I'm sure he's looking forward to it." He leered at the brunette. Harry didn't seem to notice, he was too busy thinking of all the things he wanted to do when he got back to Hogwarts.

"You're a paedophile, you know." Draco mumbled, half hoping Tom wouldn't hear him.

"Why would you say that?" He growled.

"Harry's fifteen!" Draco practically shrieked. "You're nineteen."

Tom sat up straighter, "do I look nineteen? No. Because I am fifteen." Draco and Harry both opened their mouths to protest. "Harry is fifteen, and I age as he does. Until he is nineteen, I shall not be nineteen either. We share a body, Malfoy." Draco's mouth made a 'o' shape and he blushed faintly, while Harry merely looked confused.

"You never told me," he said softly.

"It never came up." Tom ran his fingers through Harry's hair, before pulling the boy's face up for a kiss. Draco dropped the trousers he was holding into the trunk and decided this would be a good time to wait in the bathroom.

Three of Harry's groans later, and a scream of "Oh Tom, more", Draco decided he would be better off leaving the room altogether. He ran from the bathroom, with his hand over his eyes, and out of Harry's bedroom.

_XXX_

September 1st 1995.

Purebloods were usually calm and collected, elegant and suave, but that was only when they remembered to pack their School trunks. Harry was, at that moment, running around like a headless chicken. "Where is my trunk? Draco, what did you do with my trunk?" He roared, pulling the sheets off of his bed to check if Draco tucked the trunk underneath the sheets, or under the bed, or shrunk it and left it on his pillow.

The others were waiting at the front doors of Riddle Manor. They were taking a Portkey, and it was going to leave in two minutes. "Come on Dorian!" Draco called back, trying to coach himself into remembering Harry's new name.

Tom popped into existence, standing next to his lover and smiling faintly. "It's shrunk."

"I know that, thank you." Harry hissed, not very graciously.

"In your pocket." Tom added with a smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. Harry's mouth dropped open and his hand went to his pocket to check. There was his trunk, made of ivory with a ebony lid and his new name carved into the lid and filled with liquid ivory. It was lined with black silk, and was, as Voldemort pointed out, very fancy which would convince them it came from an exotic country, and not England.

Without so much as a thank you, Harry shoved the trunk back into his pocket and ran, as fast as he could, to the front doors of the Manor. He managed to grab Draco's arm just as the Portkey took off. The room began to spin, and Harry gulped, hoping he'd be able to hold on tight enough for the whole journey.

They landed just inside of the barrier to platform 9 and ¾'s. A family of people pushed through the barrier just after they landed, and walked straight into them. Lucius and Voldemort glared at the remaining members of the Weasley family. Bill, Charlie and Percy were no longer with them. Arthur and Molly were accompanied only by the twin boys. Ron and Ginny were both dead, and the parents looked distraught after losing a second child. Narcissa winced in sympathy, reaching out to squeeze Draco's shoulder. The twins didn't look very effective.

They both caught sight of Harry at once and elbowed past their father to get to him. Sirius took a step forward, but Harry shook his head.

"Dorian! Me ol'," one said.

The other added, "Friend, how's it been?"

Harry just smiled, squinted slightly and grinned. "Hello Fred," the first boy who spoke, "hello George," he nodded at the second to speak. Both of the twins' mouths fell open.

"How do you..."

"Do that? Our mum…"

"Can't even do that!" They finished the last sentence together. Everyone watching them, but Harry was confused.

Harry didn't answer, instead he smiled softly and nodded towards the adult Weasleys before turning back to his own, slightly extended family. "Bye Siri," he leant up to kiss the man's cheek.

"Remus will be on the train. You and Draco stick together, ok." The dark haired uncle pulled Harry into a hug. "I remember the day Emily went off to school." He grinned evilly. "I was older of course, so I had already started, but I didn't really want her to leave home. It would have been cruel to deprive our parents of both children at once, so I locked her in our fathers wardrobe." He snickered.

"**How much do you bet,**" Tom drawled in Harry's head, "**that Black actually did that to his brother?**"

"More than likely," Harry whispered out loud. The Weasleys gave the boy odd looks, but the Malfoys were more than used to it.

They all began to walk towards the train, away from the red heads. Narcissa placed a gentle kiss to Draco's forehead, and surprised herself by doing the same to Harry. "I miss Tinkerbell. How come Bella couldn't come?" Harry pouted.

"Now, Dorian," Voldemort said with a warning glare, "you know my cousin Isabella is unwell."

Harry snickered, and obviously meaning for it to have some sort of meaning, he hissed, "_Is Is_abella unwell, _is_ she?" He giggled again and Tom echoed the laugh in his head. "Azkaban thing," he muttered noticing the weird looks he was getting.

"On to the train with you," Voldemort said with a hand pressed to Harry's lower back.

Harry hopped onto the train. He hovered in the doorway a moment, smirking at Voldemort whose hand still hovered where it had been against his back. "Any lower, father, and that would have been inappropriate." He snickered at the flush that crossed Voldemort's cheeks, and dashed off to find a compartment. Draco bid the adults farewell and followed after his sanity-challenged friend.

He noticed Granger staring at him from the doorway of a compartment as he passed, but he took no noticed. The Weasley twins had joined her there, but Draco didn't know that either, as he didn't care to check. He kept walking, and eventually found Harry and Remus in a, otherwise empty, compartment. "Hey," he said taking a seat opposite the werewolf, Defence Professor. He was the only professor to last in that position for more than one year.

Draco smirked lightly as Harry curled up at his side. Tom snorted, but only Harry heard him. The two spent the next few minutes teasing each other bout how Tom was jealous and Harry was an idiot, while Draco discussed their private suit with Remus.

"How come we get our own rooms anyway?" Harry asked, beginning to pay attention.

"That reminds me," Draco murmured searching through his pocket for something. He handed the ring to Harry when he found it. "We're engaged remember." Harry scowled; despite being submissive he didn't like the idea of being the 'girl' in the relationship. But he slid the ring onto his wedding finger regardless.

"All married, or engaged couples, share a suit at Hogwarts. There aren't usually that many of them, as most Purebloods have contracts – which means they don't need to share a room because it is arranged – and they wont be marrying until after they graduate anyway."

"Why don't arrange marriage couples share a room?"

"You and Draco have a love match, or you're supposed to pretend you do. You're in love, and you want to see each other every moment of the day. Arranged couples usually have no choice in their partner and can't wait to spend moments apart. It's courteous to them, to offer if they would like to share a room, but most decline." Remus smiled, "your father, Draco, he shared a room with your mother for his last year at Hogwarts."

"Why are you staying with us? Father didn't have a teacher present."

"Both of your parents were of age. The two of you are only fifteen." Draco blushed at the implication. "And yes, I know all about you and Tom, Harry." Now it was Harry's turn to blush lightly.

Draco coughed softly, "so, um, what is it like being a werewolf?" Remus' eyes widened but he didn't get the chance to answer as the door flew open and Hermione ran in and threw herself at Harry.

"It is you though, right?" She whispered against his ear, as Tom struggled to throw her off. In Tom's head, Harry was asking him not to hurt her, but Tom was in control of the body now, and he wanted to hurt the girl that dared touch his Harry. "Harry?" She whispered fearfully when she pulled back to see red eyes blazing down at her.

Tom growled. "Get off."

"It's true," she breathed, panting with fear. "He was telling the truth."

Harry's eyes were green again, and the boy smiled at his old friend. "What's up, Mione?"

"Dumbledore said that you were dead, and Voldemort was controlling your body." She backed up to the door; her wand pointed at what she thought was Voldemort. In the blink of an eye, Tom was standing beside Harry, running his fingers through the boy's hair. "Oh my word!" She whispered, sinking to her knees.

"I share a body with Tom, but I'm not dead." He smiled at her.

She shakily rose to her feet. "Keep your hands off of my boyfriend," Tom growled, and Hermione fell to the floor in shock again.

"She took that well," Remus whispered across the compartment to Draco, who snickered.

_XXX_

When the first years were all sorted, Dumbledore called Harry to the front of the hall. "Dorian Grey-Hayes," he boomed, eyes twinkling madly, and Harry sneered.

"Just Grey, thank you," he muttered with a sneer as he took the hat from Minerva McGonagall and placed it on his own head.

_**Ah, hello Harry Potter. Oh, but you are not are you, not any longer. What an interesting potion, what lovely side effects. You are now a Riddle, in more ways than one. But, let us sort you. Where shall you go…?**_

"_Anywhere you like,_" Harry answered.

Tom hissed, "**Hurry up about it.**"

_**I go by my first decision, and with young Tom there as well, I dare say you'd both do well in… **_ … SLYTHERIN!

Harry sat at the Slytherin table, and smirked behind his hand as he felt Draco wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Glad to have you with me," he murmured against Harry's neck, secretly enjoying the glares he received from the Head table.

Harry laughed coyly, "but we sleep in the same room at night." A few seats down the table, Pansy Parkinson burst into tears.

"Now, I would like to say a few words." Dumbledore paused and everyone waited. Five minutes later, with a frown he sat down. "I seemed to have forgotten. Worry not, students, dig in." And the food appeared on the table. Everyone ate, and when the food disappeared Dumbledore stood back up. "Now, a quick reminded, Weasley Wizard Wheezes are banned."

The twins had been clever enough to attempt to sue the Ministry for allowing their underage brother to die in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and had received five hundred Galleons to shut them up. It wasn't as much as Ron would have gotten had he won, but it was enough to open their joke shop with.

"And," Dumbledore continued, "if anyone sees Harry Potter, remember to stun him on sight, then call in the Aurors." Most people just looked blankly at him, including Harry himself. "Now, a brief moments silence for Ron and Ginny Weasley."

Everyone stayed silent out of respect for the dead, except for the Weasley twins who began to hum the funeral march, rather out of tune. No one complained though, after all they were probably still mourning their siblings. "Now, off to bed," Dumbledore ordered when the minute was up.

Remus waited for Harry and Draco and led them to their shared rooms. There were two bedrooms, and a living room, with two couches. Draco took one look at the couch and lay down, decided it would be safer on his ears than trying to share a bed with Harry, and Tom.

Harry smiled apologetically at Draco, and headed into his bedroom. He brought back a pillow and a duvet for the blond and went back to the room. He didn't bother to look around, it didn't matter what the room looked like.

It was home.

He was back home at Hogwarts, at long last.

**XXX**

In the last chapter, I said I would do SOUL SEEKER next… I have changed my mind. You must take a poll. I will not accept any choices given in a review. The poll is at my LJ or at my FFNet account.

SOUL SEEKER:

**BSummary: /B** HP/DM Harry didn't watch Severus die, so he never learnt that he was a Horcrux. When Voldemort was defeated Harry made sure not to get hit by the Killing Curse, and therefore a part of Voldemort's soul still lives on inside him. When Draco is freed of the Dark Mark, his Veela heritage starts to search out his Mate, but his Mate's soul isn't calling out to his own like it's meant to. Instead, the Horcrux is calling out to Voldemort's soul, and Harry's scar is still hurting. All is not well. Alternative ending to DH. No Epilogue.

B**Warnings: **/B Slash. HP/DM: HP/George (minor). AU. Character Death. Violence. Language. Veela.

THE LAMBS:

**BSummary: /B** FG/HP A society of werewolves hasn't got a lot to be afraid of, expect perhaps The Lambs, a collection of elemental-magic-wielding werewolf hunters. If that wasn't important enough to worry about, the werewolf Alpha, Fenrir, has to figure out how to kidnap the Lambs' Heir, Harry. Harry just happens to be Fenrir's mate, who doesn't believe in the existence of werewolves, because his parents decided 'if he didn't know about it, it can't kidnap and mate with him'. AU non-magic.

B**Warnings: **/B Slash. FG/HP AU. Character Death. Violence. Language. Werewolf. Non-magic.

The Lambs seem to be winning by like 22 votes. But the voting will stay open until The Erlking is done.


	10. Splash

It might be a bit confusing

Did I mention I finished **THE ERLKING**? I did, except at HPFAN because it wont let anyone update right now. I hate the Title of this Chapter.

It might be a bit confusing. But I'm going to call him 'Harry' when he is around people who know that he really is Harry. He'll be 'Dorian' when he is around people who don't know.

Also, Severus is a double agent. He protects Harry because, like canon, he loved Lily and Harry is Lily's son. But Severus doesn't know that Harry is Dorian, and he doesn't know that Marvolo is Voldemort either. That's why Severus is a bit insolent towards Voldemort. As for his loyalties, Severus isn't loyal to either side, until they win. He will protect Harry, for Lily's sake, but he won't necessarily be on Harry's side. Right now, he's content to straddle the fence, so to speak, and play both sides until he's caught out. Voldemort suspects him. Dumbledore trusts him implicitly, and Harry plain doesn't like him.

Russian is **underlined and bold**

Tom, in Harry's head is _italic_

Harry, in Harry's head is **bold**

Voldemort, in Harry's head is underlined

Parseltongue is _**bold and italic**_

Merfolk speak is _underlined and italic_

**Words: **3,647

**Chapter 10**

**Splash**

September 12th 1995.

Almost two weeks had passed and the Headmaster continuously attempted to get Harry alone. It pissed Tom off to no end, and Dorian always tried to stay within distance of Remus or Draco. The blond teenager had taken to being a dominant fiancé rather well. He glared at anyone who touched or looked at Harry inappropriately, whenever Dumbledore requested a meeting with Harry, Draco would go along and quote passages of the Doctrine of Married and Affianced Rights. That meant Dumbledore couldn't be alone with Harry, at least not without Draco, without punishment. Draco was also enjoying the dark look on Tom's face whenever red eyes looked at the engagement ring on Harry's finger.

"Dorian," Albus greeted with a smile. The man practically ran through the corridor to catch up with the boy. Dorian gave him a dirty look. Draco's hand tightened on Dorian's arm, and they kept walking. "Mr. Grey, I insist you slow down."

Dorian stopped walking and turned around to face the elderly man. "What is it you want with me Headmaster? You've become my constant shadow these past few days."

"My fiancé and I would like to know why." Draco drawled, folding his arms across his chest and narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Albus smiled, his head tilted to one side slightly and he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Come now boys. Can't a Headmaster take an interest in his pupils?"

Dorian snorted, "they have a word for people like that, Sir." He sneered, and Draco chuckled.

Dumbledore's face took on a pinched expression for a second, but then he smiled at them once more. "Detention, Mr. Grey. Tonight, with me." He walked past them, humming under his breath and Dorian swore.

"You think we could get Remus or even Snape to cover my detention tonight?" Harry frowned and Draco reached out to hug the smaller boy.

"Professor Snape," the blond corrected out of habit. "Doubt it. Maybe we can get one of them to 'accidentally' barge in?" Harry shrugged and Draco tightened his hold. "Come on, let's go back to our rooms. I think you need a hug from Tom."

Later that night, Harry warily made his way to the Headmaster's office. He stood at the bottom of the stone steps eyeing the gargoyle with distaste and distrust. Without speaking the password, the gargoyle jumped to one side and Harry hesitantly climbed up the steps.

"Ah there you are." Dumbledore said merrily. He watched Dorian from behind his desk, with his fingers steepled together and tucked beneath his chin. "How have you been, my boy?" Dorian rolled his eyes and entered the room fully. He wasn't at all pleased to be there, but he didn't want to seem cowardly, running back to Voldemort or Tom and begging them to get him out of this detention.

"Fine." He muttered, reluctantly adding, "Sir."

"Good, that's good. Have a seat." Harry slumped into one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the desk. He slouched down low, and scowled slightly. "Now, for your detention I thought we could get to know one another better. How about that? I'll ask some questions and you can ask me questions as well. Would you like to start, Dorian?"

Dorian snorted, "Sure. Do we really have to do this?"

"Now, now, that isn't very nice. My turn then." He paused and rubbed his hand over his chin, brushing down his beard. "How did your mother die?"

"That's really none of your business." Dorian hissed. He narrowed his eyes, trying not to panic and reached out to Voldemort through their link. "**Marvolo, how did Emily Grey die?**"

He felt mild annoyance float back towards him, and then frustration as Voldemort tried to think of something on the spot. Strangely no one had thought of an answer to that question. But then again, most people were well mannered enough not to ask something so personal when barely acquainted. "Tell the old man Voldemort sent an envoy to Russia. Your mother was one of those he attempted to recruit. Most joined him, but she refused and was killed. It should make him believe you hate me sufficiently."

"**Is that what we want though? What if he decides I'd make a good boy wonder?**" But Voldemort didn't answer. Tom was strangely silent as well.

So Dorian answered the Headmaster. After he had finished speaking, he looked at Dumbledore with a scowl. The man was staring at him, a calculating look on his face, as if trying to determine if Dorian was making it up. "Why do you want to know?" Dorian asked hostilely.

"As I said, my boy, I want to get to know you better." Dumbledore smiled. "My turn again."

"Fire away," then Dorian muttered something in Russian, which was rather insulting, but Dumbledore didn't know that. Voldemort had cast a spell on him so he would be able to speak and understand Russian fluently, which was a good idea considering he had supposedly lived in Russia all of his life.

"How do you feel about the war against Voldemort?" Dorian opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. That had been rather blunt. Dumbledore either seriously suspected him, or he was getting desperate.

Before either could speak again, Remus burst through the doors to the Headmaster's office. "Albus, quick, come, Peeves." He panted, not making much sense but Dumbledore stood up and began to leave the room anyway. As Remus followed him out, he turned back to Dorian and gave a wink.

Harry slumped down further in the chair and frowned. He still couldn't feel Tom. When Dumbledore didn't come back after ten minutes, Harry left the office. The moment he stepped foot off of the staircase towards the office, Tom's presence flooded back into his mind again.

"What the fuck?" He muttered.

"_I believe the old man has warded his rooms. No one, such as us, or those under the Imperious, can be affected by mind curses while there. Irritating, interfering man! I suppose he thinks he'd do someone a favor? Lifting a mind control? I wish he were dead._" Tom snarled. He paced around in their private Chamber, glaring at the walls and kicked water up at their floating bed.

"Calm down," Harry told him. With a sigh, Harry walked away from the office and made his way to his own rooms. "I wish he were dead too," Harry muttered as he approached the portrait. The portrait was of Thetis, surrounded by fairies, sitting on a tree swing. The branches of the willow tree moved occasionally, swatting at the fairies that flew out of reach. Thetis smiled at Harry. She was a woman at that moment, but when Harry smiled back she changed, becoming the mirror image of Lord Voldemort. Harry spat the password and, giggling, Thetis changed back and allowed him entry.

Thetis was a shape-shifting god, from Greek mythology. After many years, and numerous attempts a mortal managed to seduce and woo her. She kind of got on Harry's nerves, mainly because she never turned into Tom. Just Voldemort, and it was sort of annoying, cause Harry was in love with Tom! He had pointed that out to her once, a week ago, and she had sort of half shrugged, changed into Dumbledore and started to cackle silently. Tom had wanted to set her on fire, but Remus wouldn't let him.

"_I don't like that portrait._" Tom complained, before materializing and throwing himself down on the sofa beside Harry. Harry turned to look at the other boy and smiled. He ran his hand over Tom's face and chin, before his fingers forced Tom to close his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Memorizing you." Harry answered with a soft smile.

"I'll be here forever." Tom whispered pulling Harry into his arms.

The brunette relaxed into the grasp, but whispered back, "no one stays with me forever Tom."

Suddenly Harry's bedroom door swung open and Blaise and Draco walked out, talking quietly. Tom disappeared silently and Dorian sat up from the sofa. "Hey guys."

"How was detention?" Draco asked, moving to pull Dorian into a hug.

"You really are engaged?" Blaise asked, slightly unbelieving.

Draco chuckled, but Dorian was the one to answer. "Yes, of course we are. And we're very much in love, thanks for asking." Draco chuckled again. At Dorian's words, a loud shriek echoed from the bedroom. The brunette looked startled and turned to the blond with wide eyes.

"That's Pansy. She's been like that since I confirmed our engagement." He kissed Dorian's cheek softly. Another wail followed the first, along with some loud sobbing. The girl actually wheezed once or twice, sniffled and started coughing, and then wailed again. Dorian's eyes were still wide, and they turned to look at the still open door. Pansy was sprawled across his bed, sobbing, with her face in her hands.

"I feel really guilty."

"Don't love." Draco whispered, "We can't help loving each other."

Blaise snorted. "Ok you two are not for real. I'm actually starting to choke on all the fluff in this room." Draco just sneered at his long time friend. They sat on the sofa together, Blaise on one end and Draco at the other. Dorian sat on Draco's lap.

They spoke about random things, all the while wincing whenever Pansy shrieked again. Tom would occasionally say something to Harry who would laugh and answer out loud, forgetting about Blaise for that moment. Then Harry would whisper what Tom said to Draco, who also laughed. Blaise watched them all for a few minutes before jumping to his feet.

"You're insane," he muttered as he headed to the door. "You're all bleeding crazy." Pansy wailed again. "You're not much better off, Parkinson," he cried through the open door before slamming it after him. In her portrait, Thetis changed into Blaise, and made a show of storming around the wood, smacking her swing and telling her fairies they were insane. Harry decided she was growing on him.

_XXX_

September 16th 1995.

The group of Slytherin's made their way out to the Black Lake. They had Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindor's first thing that day. Dorian sighed and stayed close to Draco's side. He really didn't like the way some people's eyes lingered on him, and Draco was oh-so-good at making unwanted attention go away.

The Gryffindor's glared as the Slytherin's got closer.

Rubeus Hagrid grinned at them all, and waved. "Gather 'round, class." He said, his words barely understandable because of his thick accent. "Today we be learnin' bout Merfolk." A few people gasped in surprise or awe, and many stepped away from the Lake. Merfolk weren't the nicest race of creatures. "Now, now, don't fear, class. They 're severely misunde'stood creatures."

Two mermaids lifted their heads out of the water. Both were female. Their heads were a mix between snake and fish, and unlike the fairy tales they didn't look the slightest bit like a human. Scales covered their faces, chests and stomachs. Some of the boys in Gryffindor pointed at their breasts and nudged each other while giggling. The mermaids looked a little pissed off at that. Their tales were scaly as well, and began just below their belly buttons. Each carried a spear, and their hair flowed behind them like seaweed, in green or brown.

Dorian nudged Draco and leant over to whisper, "I have lingered in the chambers of the sea, with sea-girls wreathed with seaweed gold and brown, till human voices wake us and we drown."**1** Draco gave a half smirk back and continued to watch the Merfolk.

"Who ca' tell us bout Merfolk?" Hermione raised her hand and Hagrid nodded at her.

"Merfolk, often called mermaids or mermen, are sea creatures. Unlike their fictional counterpart, Merfolk are cruel and dislike humans. They cannot speak about water, and they resemble a cross between a fish, and a snake. Their eyes," everyone looked closely at the faces of the Merfolk, "are slitted, and like a reptile's they close sideways, covered by a thin membrane rather than 'eyelids'. Merfolk are similar to Kelpies, in that if someone stumbles across them, they will more than likely eat them. However, they are governed by a ruler, and never attack their own species, which is a noble attribute."

The Merfolk positively beamed at the last sentence, taking it as the compliment it was intended to be. At Hermione's words, some of the boys in Gryffindor got a look on their face. It could be described as menacing, or cruel, and it was obvious that whatever they were thinking would not have a good result.

As the lesson drew to a close, Hagrid allowed the students to come closer in groups of three to shake hands with the Merfolk. Dorian and Draco stepped forward, the last two Slytherin's to approach the Merfolk. As they were meant to be in groups of three, Hermione walked forward to join them. Dean Thomas, a Mudblood, got there before her.

"Hi," he said with a smirk.

"Hello," Dorian said politely. He bowed to one of the mermaids before reaching his hand out for them to take. The creature shook his hand softly, then her grip tightened and she began to screech. Draco turned towards her, and then looked at Dorian. He was just in time to see Seamus sneak past Hagrid and shove Dorian forward. The mermaid had been trying to warn him.

With a splash, Dorian fell into the Lake. As per Hermione's information, the two mermaids descended upon him. While on land, he was safe from them, but now he had strayed into their territory without permission, and that made him fair game.

When Dorian didn't surface immediately, Draco went to dive in after him but Hagrid pulled him back. "'Ey, Takaliteh," he called to the mermaid who held her hand over Dorian's mouth, "let 'im go, yeah?" He waved his hand towards himself, as if calling Dorian forward. The boy's green eyes were wide with fear, and his arms flailed wildly as he tried to claw his way to the surface. He couldn't breathe!

Dean and Seamus snickered softly, nudging each other and glaring at the Slytherin's in turn. "Death Eater," they hissed together. One more dead Death Eater wouldn't cause anyone heartache, they decided and kept chuckling.

"Go back ta th' Castle," Hagrid shouted, turning around to glare at the laughing duo. "You two go ta Snape's office." The students left, except Draco.

Hagrid jumped into the Lake, and began to wade after Dorian. "Let 'im go, you hear?" Hagrid shouted as he swam after them. More Merfolk came, there were about six now, all of them hovering around Dorian, who was slowly going limp.

"_Look what we have here_."

"_Pretty, pretty, looks so yummy_."

"_Give us a taste, yes, yes, let us taste the pretty_."

They all spoke quickly, their voices sounding slurred as if they were either very drunk, or very hungry. Dorian bit the hand that was clamped over his mouth. The mermaid let go and swam backwards. Dorian swam as quickly as he was able, trying desperately to get to Hagrid. A hand clamped over his ankle, and pulled him back down. Dorian screamed, and sucked in a lung full of water.

Choking, he barely heard the merman coo with delight. "_Such a yummy looking human, and so powerful. Oh yes, we shall enjoy you._"

Dorian's eyes bled to red, and Tom growled as he hissed out the incantation for the Bubble-Head Charm. Now, able to breathe properly, Tom concentrated on getting Harry's body away from these animals. A handful of Stunning Charms, and Cutting Hexes later, Tom cast the levitation charm on himself, and literally flew up out of the Lake. Hagrid grabbed him out of the air, when Tom cancelled the charm.

Green eyes met Draco's gray ones, and the blond ran to keep up with Hagrid's brisk pace. Dorian was placed on one of the beds in the hospital wing, and Hagrid turned to Draco.

"Look Malfoy, I know you don' like me, but your fiancé nearly died, he did." Draco just nodded, too shaken by what had happened to his friend to speak. "Ima get the Headmaster. You tell Poppy what happened." Draco nodded again. Hagrid left.

When the giant was out of earshot, Tom appeared beside the blond and spoke. "Harry's sleeping, I can't even hear him in my head. We have to get out of here. Madame Pomfrey will know who Dorian is if she is allowed to check him over. Get Harry back to your rooms, and Remus will make sure he's ok." Tom sounded worried, and scared and it was enough to make Draco shake in fear as well.

"He's ok though?" The blond asked, reaching out to squeeze Harry's hand. The boy in the bed didn't move. He lay, pale and wet and still and Draco squeezed the hand harder to see if Harry would flinch. His shoulder length hair was pasted to Dorian's face, wet and stringy and Draco chuckled softly cause he knew Harry would be pissed that his hair would dry frizzy.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Keep a closer eye on him." Tom chided with a frown. He disappeared just as the door to the infirmary opened and Severus Snape stormed inside.

"I have Thomas and Finnegan in my office right now, and neither will tell me what is going on." He looked at his godson, and Draco sobbed.

He knew the Dark Lord was wary of Snape, but the man had been a part of Draco's family for years and Draco trusted him with his life.

"Your fiancé?" Severus asked and Draco nodded.

"They pushed him into the Black Lake. He was nearly drowned by six Merfolk, and those two did nothing but laugh and call him a Death Eater." Draco's hands clenched and his knuckles turned white. "Punish them. Tell me you'll punish them."

"They endangered a student's life, by all rights they should be expelled. But you know how Dumbledore favors those Gryffindor's. I will try Draco." Severus squeezed Draco's shoulder lightly. "Would you like me to get Madame Pomfrey?"

"NO!" Draco shouted before clamping his free hand over his mouth. "No, Mr. Hayes doesn't trust many people, especially those working for Dumbledore. He has Professor Lupin trained to care for Dorian. Could you help me bring him to our rooms?"

Without answering, Severus picked Dorian up bridal style, and walked from the infirmary. Draco followed him, a scowl playing across his face. Those Gryffindors would pay, even if it were the last thing he did. Harry was his best friend, he had not always been, but he was now, and no one got away with harming someone a Malfoy considered theirs.

Thetis looked at them curiously, but opened without the password, her eyes lingering on Dorian's pale face. She looked like Voldemort again, but Snape didn't notice. He was too busy staring at the strange scar on the boy's forehead. Before he could ask, Draco said, "fell out of a window and landed on his head." Snape rolled his eyes at that and muttered something insulting about clumsy idiots, and then he left the room.

"**Don't call me an idiot, stupid greasy man!**" Harry hissed in Russian when the door closed behind Snape. He had woken up as he was laid down on his bed and Draco was explaining about his scar. It was just he and Draco now. When Draco left to find Remus, Harry was alone with Tom, who wrapped his arms possessively around the younger boy's waist and pressed soft kisses to his hair.

"Your hair is wet."

"No duh!" Harry snorted and Tom bit his ear lightly.

"Never scare me like that again." His arms tightened and he let out a shaky breath. "I thought I had lost you."

Harry turned in Tom's arms, so that they were face to face. "Try not to get killed by Merfolk. Just added it to my list." He leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to Tom's nose then his lips. "I love you."

"I love you also." Tom whispered back.

"Wake me when Remus and Draco get here."

When the werewolf arrived, with the blond in tow, no one was heartless enough to wake either boy that lay, sleeping in each others arms, on the bed. Remus cast diagnostic spells he had learnt in Hogwarts (mostly to heal himself after the full moons) and Draco crawled onto the bed, on the other side of Harry, and slowly ran his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Do you love him?" Remus asked quietly. If Draco did, Tom was not likely to let them continue to pretend to be engaged.

"Not like that. It's like Harry is a part of me, very close to me, but I don't want to do the things Tom does to him. Yeah, I like to hold him and kiss his cheek and wrap my arm around his waist, but I do that because I know he likes to be touched like that. He's very affectionate. He's my best friend, and the thought of anyone hurting him, even Tom, is enough to make me want to kill someone in cold blood. Which is strange, cause I'm not really the killing type. I think of Harry as family, I suppose." He wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, mindful of Tom's arm and snuggled close to Harry's back.

"So," Remus said with a teasing smile, "the Malfoys are that kind of family." Draco frowned, momentarily, then caught on to what Remus was suggesting and laughed softly.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He muttered. He yawned, and vaguely heard Remus leave the room before he fell asleep.

**XXX**

**1** I have lingered in the chambers of the sea, with sea-girls wreathed with seaweed gold and brown, till human voices wake us and we drown. – T.S. Eliot, Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. _At least that's how I think it goes. It's been a long time since I read Eliot._

Hey, thanks for reading. It's been so long since I updated this, I actually don't remember half of what I wrote in the previous chapters. Good thing I've had up to chapter 14 planned out for ages then.

Please review.

And if you have time, check out my new fiction. _THE LAMBS_: a Fenrir/Harry fiction.

"A society of werewolves hasn't got a lot to be afraid of, expect perhaps The Lambs, a collection of elemental-magic-wielding werewolf hunters. If that wasn't important enough to worry about, the werewolf Alpha, Fenrir, has to figure out how to kidnap the Lambs' Heir, Harry. Harry just happens to be Fenrir's mate, who doesn't believe in the existence of werewolves, because his parents decided 'if he didn't know about it, it can't kidnap and mate with him'. AU non-magic."


	11. Test of Valor

Hey has anyone else noticed that FFNet keeps repeating the first line of all of my chapters…? WTF?

Trying to pre-write this fiction as well. I'll let you all know how long my resolve holds out. Go read _THE LAMBS_ please. When this story is finished (which will probably be before **BLACK COMPLICATION**) then I'll get started on SOUL SEEKER, is that k?

**Words: ** 3,040

**Chapter 11**

**Test of Valor**

September 26th 1995.

Albus Dumbledore had once been a good man, but even he could admit to himself that he was weak when faced with power. When he had been with Grindelwald he had allowed the power of the Dark Arts to go to his head, he had been driven mad by lust and power and his sister had been killed as a result. He had broken it off with Grindelwald just before the other man had disappeared. He had promised himself that he would stay away from temptation, so he had begun teaching at Hogwarts. Then he became Headmaster, once he had defeated his past lover, even forsaking the office of Minister for Magic. It was too large a temptation to risk.

He refused to let himself go down that path again. Unfortunately, power comes in many forms. The idea of helping to defeat another Dark Lord was a concept heady with power and recognition. He didn't need the recognition, true, nor the power, but he craved it. He craved it passionately, because it reminded him of what he was like before he had lost his family and his lover.

Harry Potter and the prophecy had been necessary. He honestly did believe in the prophecy, or he would not have shared it with the elder Potters. But then, power affected more people than just Dumbledore himself. Tom Riddle was made powers willing slave, along with Ginny Weasley. While she died for her mistakes, it was really Harry who suffered, and all of his friends.

Albus truly believed that Voldemort's Horcrux had killed Harry's soul. If he had known Harry was still alive he would have cast an exorcism, or a banishing, or something. But he had seen the boy's eyes turn red when he had looked at Lucius. Albus had seen it, and it was proof enough. And so, the boy went to Azkaban.

And Dumbledore lost his weapon, and the easiest way for him to gain more power for himself.

But now, there was the boy, Grey. He had power. Albus had watched out of his office window as the boy thrashed in the Lake and how he was able to levitate himself out of the Merfolk's grasp. It had been amazing, and Albus could practically see the magic churning all around the boy, sweeping out and cocooning the child in it's protective, powerful embrace.

Dumbledore wanted it, needed it. His body craved it, and while his heart fought against the desire, his better judgment hardly ever won out. After all, absolute power corrupts absolutely. While he would deny it, Dumbledore was well on his way.

"Albus, are you with us?" Minerva asked with a scowl, waving her hand in front of his face.

They were all clustered around a table in the dining room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. While Sirius had gone to Gringotts to lay claim to all of his possessions, including the house, he had informed the Goblins that no one was to know. Sirius wanted the Order of the Phoenix to keep using the house; he wanted them to keep their guards down for as long as possible. Now that Sirius owned the house once again he was automatically once of its secret keepers.

"Yes, yes, my dear, sorry about that." He cleared his throat and took a look around the table. The elder Weasleys were all there, along with most of the teachers from Hogwarts, including Snape. A few others were present as well, mostly those from the previous war.

Remus leant forward and frowned. "What's this about, Albus?"

Dumbledore smiled softly. "I do believe, my friends, that I have found a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all." Everyone began to talk amongst him- or her- selves, and for the most part happy. Remus was wary, and rather worried. Harry wouldn't be happy. Severus just shrugged noncommittally. If Dumbledore won, then Dumbledore won, it was no skin off his nose. As long as he made sure to remain on the winning side till the end, then Severus would be happy.

"There is another prophecy. It had been made quite a while ago, and has recently come to my attention." He chuckled softly, "and it is much shorter than the one concerning our dearly departed Harry. _The Second Coming, Coming at the beginning of a year, will Come to save them from the True enemies._ I believe the 'true enemies' to be a reference to Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"And what of the Second Coming?" Hesita Jones asked with a frown. "Did anyone meet someone new last January?"

"I believe the prophecy referred to the month of September. The beginning of a new school year at Hogwarts."

"But everyone at Hogwarts is the same as last year, except Delores Umbridge!" Molly exclaimed with a sigh. "I don't see how that helps."

"Well," Albus smiled, "it wouldn't help if you were correct. Fortunately, we did have a new student this September. Mr. Dorian Hayes-Grey recently joined us from Russia after the death of his mother. I'm sure many of you met him at his coming out Ball a few months ago."

"It cannot possibly," Severus murmured softly. It was obviously louder than he intended because everyone turned to stare at him. "He is affianced to a Malfoy, do you honestly believe Lucius will let the boy run about defeating this or the other and make a show of the Malfoy name? It's not him, couldn't possibly be him." Severus folded his arms over his chest and glared at anyone who was still looking at him.

Remus was having the same reaction, mentally. Panic was forefront in his mind. He had only just gotten to know the kid; he couldn't leave him. And poor Sirius, the other man wouldn't be able to stand the thought of Harry being forced into a situation like that.

"The boy is powerful, he reminds me of Harry in that respect. Maybe, maybe the first prophecy was about Dorian, and not Harry? His mother defied Voldemort on numerous occasions before she was killed, or so I'm told. Perhaps he was born in July as well?"

"Now, you are stretching," Minerva sighed.

"None the less. The boy is powerful. He could help us. You are all aware of the Horcruxes Voldemort has made. They take an item of great power and strength to destroy each one individually. The boy wields more power than myself. He would easily be able to destroy these items, with the right help and guidance, than I would be able." That admittance irritated Dumbledore somewhat. There was a time when he had been all-powerful, and all-important, and now he was nothing more than a glorified Headmaster, looking to teenage boys to save the day.

"I shall ask Dorian to join me as I seek out the Horcruxes. Together we shall destroy them. Then, finally, Voldemort will fall for good."

The moment Remus was free to leave; he headed straight back for Hogwarts and told Harry everything Albus had said. Harry immediately told Voldemort, using their connection. Draco scowled, Tom scowled, Remus paced and Voldemort started screaming with rage. "Shut up," Harry muttered massaging his temple, "you are giving me a headache."

Voldemort stayed silent until Harry had fallen asleep, but he later joined Tom in the imaginary Chamber of Secrets in Harry's mind and together the two parts of the one soul planned all of the ways to kill and torture Dumbledore.

It was their guess, and Remus and Lucius had both agreed when they had been asked, that the prophecy did not referred to Voldemort at all. It seemed someone had known that Harry was going to be betrayed, and they had foreseen Harry returning as someone else and resolving the problems from his past. Voldemort believed that Harry was intended to save Dumbledore from himself. He was the true enemy; his craving for power, despite the fact that he didn't actually want any power, was his demon. He was his own worst enemy because he was weak enough to let his personal demons win.

_XXX_

October 2nd 1995.

Albus wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to just decide that Dorian was this new Second Coming and that would be that. Rather he was out to prove it. He wanted Dorian to prove it, to Dumbledore, and to the Order and the entire Wizarding World if need be. But Severus had been right. There was no way Lucius would allow him to make a spectacle of Dorian, nor would Marvolo Hayes be accommodating in that respect either.

Instead, Dumbledore had decided to set up events, occurrences, which would force Dorian to reveal his true potential. Then, and only then, when he had passed, would Dumbledore reveal the secrets of the Horcruxes. Unfortunately for Albus, Voldemort had already told Harry all about them.

The first had occurred on one of the rare occasions where Dorian was by himself. Insanely, the boy was sitting beside the Lake he had almost drowned in three weeks ago. He was lying on his back with a book propped up on his school bag, which was lying on his stomach. He was turning the pages with magic, wandless, and with a roll of his eyes he noticed Seamus, Dean and Neville come over.

"Ah, they always say a coward returns to the scene of his crime."

"Criminal, actually," the Muggle raised Dean spat.

Dorian smirked, the corners of his lips drawing up on the left side only and flashing his teeth at the boys. "They both have the same general meaning, in my point of view."

"No one cares about your point of view, Death Eater!" Seamus hissed.

"As opposed to the two who almost killed a student. If Dumbledore wasn't so corrupt, you would have been expelled weeks ago." He looked over at Neville, who was blushing slightly, while the other two tried to think up a reasonable insult. "And what are you doing here?"

"He's here cause he agrees with us!"

Dorian rolled his eyes. He made sure that Tom was awake and could hear every word, just in case. "What, that you are both brainless, biased morons? I'm sure everyone agrees with that." Dorian got to his feet and rolled his eyes in Neville's direction. The boy blushed harder but rolled his eyes shyly back. Truthfully, both of the other two had bullied Neville into presenting a 'united front'. Neville had been too scared to refuse. After Ron had died, Seamus and Dean became the unofficial rules of Gryffindor – much like Harry, Ron and Hermione would have been had Tom Riddle not succeeded – and most people were afraid of them. Especially since Headmaster Dumbledore seemed to support most of their actions.

With his bag, and book, in hand, Dorian moved away from the Gryffindors. He didn't get far before a spell was cast at his back. "Levicorpus!" Dean cried. By all rights, Dorian should have been hanging in the air by his ankles with his robes dangling over his face. But he wasn't.

Snape was approaching them, and he had recognized the spell from when James Potter cast it on him. He was a second away from countering it, when Dorian's right hand disappeared beneath his left armpit, and his wand poked out towards the idiot boys. With a smirk, no one saw, Dorian cast a mirroring charm. Dean Thomas ended up hanging by his ankles. Unlike Dorian, Dean wasn't wearing any trousers. His Incredible Hulk boxers were on display for anyone who was interested to see.

Snape lowered his wand in shock. No doubt the boy was powerful, but this didn't prove that Dorian was the Second Coming.

"I didn't have you pinned for someone who would be interested in a guy's boxers." Dorian threw a smirk over his shoulder, one side of his mouth pulled higher than the other so he looked mocking rather than amused. "I guess looks can be deceiving, mate." He waved his hand in an obviously gay manner, and both Dean and Seamus blushed and stuttered and denied the accusation. Dean was still upside down.

Dorian left him there, and Snape turned the other way and left him there as well.

XXX

October 9th 1995.

It was later the same week, in a Potions class the Slytherins were unfortunate enough to share with the Gryffindors that the second incident occurred. This time Dorian was with Draco, and the boy looked pissed off. He kept shooting glares at Dean and Seamus, both of whom were trying to make it out to be Dorian's fault, while Neville softly tried to defend the Slytherin.

They were mostly finished creating a healing potion, which if made incorrectly could sometimes cause permanent, painful damage. Dorian and Draco worked together, and like all of Draco's potions, this one was going brilliantly. Well, until Seamus bolstered up the courage to follow Dumbledores instructions. The Headmaster had given him Basilisk scales. Seamus had been told that they had the power to ruin any good-natured potion. All Seamus had to do was aim for Dorian's cauldron and throw.

Which he did.

The scales landed with a soft splash, not enough for anyone to actually hear it, but Tom was rather used to irritating Gryffindors in his own time. He had become rather aware of who was throwing things into his potions, and he used his own experiences to keep an eye out for Harry. Without moving a finger, or a wand, Tom took brief control of Harry's body and whispered, "Protego." He was just in time. The second the spell took form, the potion bubbled uncontrollably before spewing from the cauldron like an erupting volcano. Draco began to duck, but Dorian just sat there, staring at Seamus who was on the other side of the room. A few Slytherins received minor burns, but the potion hit the shield in front of Dorian and Draco and dribbled harmlessly to the floor.

Snape clutched a hand to his chest, trying to calm his heart as he watched the boy. It was like he knew it was going to happen. He didn't even try to get out of range.

"When I find out who was responsible, I assure you, the punishment will be dire." Severus snarled, his voice quiet but menacing.

"How do you know the Slytherins didn't just do it wrong?" Seamus said trying to sound cocky, but really he was sort of afraid.

Snape waved his wand. The potion disappeared from the floor and the cauldron, and those with burns were cleaned and sent to the hospital wing. "Because, Mr. Finnegan," he drawled moving to lean over the boys desk. There was something in his hand, something he had taken out of the cleaned cauldron. "Basilisk scales are not a required ingredient in today's potion." He paused, "believe me, I will find out who is responsible." Seamus gulped.

"Class," he glared at the all, "dismissed."

_XXX_

October 11th 1995.

It was the night of the full moon, the second of three for that month. Harry had gone with Remus to the Shrieking Shack. He had lain down beside the other man until the moon had risen. Until Remus had begged him to leave for his own safety. Remus did take the Wolfsbane potion, but sometimes it wasn't enough. Sometimes there was no substitute for the power of a kill.

Harry frowned, and wrapped his cloak around himself tighter. He brushed back his long hair from his face. Green eyes widened when he pushed at the doors to Hogwarts and they didn't budge. He tried unlocking spells, then tried locking the door and unlocking it again just in case, then he tried blasting the door open. Nothing worked.

When Harry heard howling, he thought it might be a good time to start running.

"**Maybe I can stay in the owlery?**"

Tom growled, appearing beside him. "This reeks of Dumbledore. Especially considering the shit he's put you through this week."

"He wants to make sure I'm the one from the prophecy." Harry muttered, stealing a quick hug from Tom as they made their way to the owlery. "If only he knew." They shared a smirk at that.

When no werewolves appeared out of the forest, Tom disappeared and left Harry to curl up on the floor in the owlery. "_Good Merlin, do a cleaning charm first._"

"Don't know any," he said sleepily. Tom cast a few, briefly using Harry's body. "Thanks." Harry murmured before leaning his head back against the wall, and drifting off to sleep.

When Dumbledore found him the next morning, he recognized the magical signature that surrounded the clean area of the owlery. He sighed sadly, and frowned. So Voldemort had found a way to possess this child as well, had he?

Dumbledore brought him to the infirmary, and the first thing the medi-witch did was check that Dorian wasn't a werewolf. When Madame Pomfrey had left the room, Dumbledore waved his wand over the boy, still sleeping in the bed. Two auras jumped out at him. The one he knew belonged to Tom Riddle, and the other, that belonged to Dorian. Dumbledore frowned, but was relieved that this boy did not suffer Harry's fate, and die for Tom Riddle to live.

Dumbledore assumed this meant that Harry had stopped being a useful host for the young Dark Lord, and Tom had jumped ship, so to speak, when Dorian had come along. But, it worked in Albus' favor. There was a ritual, a Dark and dangerous ritual that drew of the magic of a sacrifice. It was used for destroying dark artifacts in large numbers. Perhaps Dorian was the Second Coming who would save them from Voldemort.

If Dumbledore could gather the Horcruxes into one place, and lure Dorian there he could use the boy – or Tom Riddle, either would suit his needs – to destroy all of the Horcruxes at once. Dumbledore felt a small smile beginning to form on his face. Yes, the boy's soul would pay the price, but it was for the greater good.

Just keep telling yourself that Albus, he thought to himself as he left the room. It's for the greater good.

**XXX**

Thanks for reading. Like I said, have a few future chapters planned out. I personally can't wait until CHAPTER 13. I'm such a bitch, aren't I? Please review and I might be kinder to you all.


	12. Horcruxes

I hate Horcruxes, 'nuff said, there won't be much about them. I hate updating while HPFan is down. It means I'm going to have to add so much at the once when it lets us start posting again. Sigh.

**Words: **3,880

**Chapter 12**

**Horcruxes**

October 13th 1995.

He had strived for years to achieve immortality, and he had honestly believed himself as close to achieving that goal, as he was possible to ever to become. He had split his soul seven times, and he had eight separate pieces of his soul, only one fragment was within his body. Two were within Harry. Lord Voldemort hadn't meant to make Harry a Horcrux. He had split his soul, ripping the piece he wanted away from what was left within him, and he had attempted to kill the Potters. Their deaths were intended to be the sacrifice he needed to cement the bond between the soul fragment and an object of his choice. He had intended to place his soul within the Shield of Gryffindor, an heirloom of the founder that Voldemort had found in the Potters home after killing James.

When Harry didn't die, it had never occurred to Voldemort that it was because his soul fragment had chosen to bond with Harry. He had, technically, attempted to kill himself at that point, and that was why the curse rebounded. Lord Voldemort was close to immortal at that point, and he had just attacked a piece of Voldemort's own soul. Of course he didn't die. After all, Harry's body had two souls, which was a lot stronger than an eight of a soul that used to be within Voldemort's destroyed body.

Voldemort had been angered, of course, and shocked. But then Tom had possessed Harry's body as well. The Horcrux within Harry had called to Tom's soul. It was no wonder that Harry's soul didn't fight against the possession; it recognized Tom as a part of himself. His soul and Voldemort's had started to blend together, after eleven years in contact.

Voldemort wasn't a fool. He knew Dumbledore intended to destroy his Horcruxes, and he knew Dumbledore intended to use Harry to help him. Tom would protect Harry, as much as it drove him mad to admit it, Tom would never let anything happen to Harry. It wasn't Harry that Voldemort was worried about though. Well, he was, of course he was. He had started having _feelings_ about the boy, which was weird and not something a Dark Lord had time to worry about. He didn't want Harry hurt anymore than Tom did.

But Harry wasn't a Horcrux that could be destroyed.

The two separate souls had entertained. When Harry had taken the potion that changed his appearance, Voldemort had noticed his magic changing as well, the two souls had changed to match his body's new look. If Voldemort were to find a way to remove his own soul, it wouldn't look like he or like Tom. It would look very similar to the way Dorian Grey looked. They were now, almost, one in the same.

Tom, however, was a different entity. He was almost a parasite, (different from the other piece of Voldemort's soul), he wasn't meant to be there, but the other soul refused to let Harry's reject Tom. Harry wouldn't want to, not now. But at first it would have been instinctual to fight back. Harry hadn't. Lord Voldemort didn't agree with certain feelings, love and fear were among them, but so was worrying. He hated worrying about others, because no one had ever worried about him when he was in danger. But he was worried about Tom. If Dumbledore found out about Tom, he'd know who Harry was; he'd not only destroy Tom's soul but if Tom died it would destroy Harry as well.

Voldemort worried about Harry an awful lot. He could admit to himself, when there was no chance of anyone else hearing, that he cared for Harry – he was even growing to love the young man. He was certainly attracted to the boy. The thought of Harry hurt or in pain terrified Voldemort, and he hated feeling fear – for anything. But he feared for Harry more than himself. He was safe from Dumbledore, but Harry was at Hogwarts at the mercy of the old man.

"My Lord?" Voldemort looked up. He was sat at a desk in his office at Malfoy Manor. Lucius was standing in the doorway holding a piece of parchment. It was unopened. "My son wrote. I thought you might like to hear."

"Read it out loud, Lucius." Lucius nodded his head and broke the seal on the letter.

"_Dear father, and mother, (October 12__th__ 1995), _

"_I apologize that I have not written sooner. It had been hectic. I suppose you'll inform our Lord about what I have written so I suppose I better tell you everything then. Firstly, I would like to point out (mainly because Tom insists) that our portrait guardian hates Tom. She can shape shift and she always insists on becoming our Lord, but never Tom. Well, frivolities out of the way, I suppose I should start with September. _

"_On September 12__th__, Dumbledore finally managed to meet with Harry on his own. Fortunately Professor Lupin managed to get Dumbledore out of the room before he could pry too much. Our Lord probably already knows about this meeting._"

"I remember." The red-eyed man said quietly. "Continue Lucius."

"_Harry had told me that Dumbledore had some sort of wards around his room that prevents Tom presence in his head. He also noted that when he tried to contact our Lord during the meeting it felt, strained was the word he used. He described it as a fuzzy feeling, with a lot of 'static' background noise. On the same day we confirmed our 'engagement' to Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Pansy cried. Father, I hope I'm not still expected to marry her after this debacle. I'll never hear the end of it from that girl. Blaise thinks Harry is insane; I don't blame him. _

"_On September 16__th__, during Care of Magical Creatures,_" Lucius suddenly stopped speaking and ran a hand over his face wearily. "Something bad is bound to happen when that oaf Hagrid and animals are together."

"_On September 16__th__ during Care of Magical Creatures, two Gryffindors pushed Harry into the Black Lake. It wouldn't have been so bad disregarding the face that we were studying Merfolk, and the six Merfolk that were nearby thought Harry looked rather tasty. They almost drowned him; luckily, Tom levitated himself out of the Lake. Neither Gryffindor received more than a detention. It's outrageous. Father I demand you do something! Severus tried but Dumbledore wouldn't bend. _

"_I had a discussion with Lupin that day and came to an unexpected conclusion. I will inform you of such later on, but I would like to point out I don't care if you disagree. It is a simple as I have decided I feel this way, and that will be the end of that, father. And no, mother, I don't love Pansy, and no, father, I haven't declared my undying love to a Weasley either. Perish the thought. And now Harry is laughing at me._

"_On September 26__th__, as you all know, Dumbledore decided he wanted Harry's help defeating our Lord as he believes the other prophecy refers to Dorian. I refuse to have my fiancé place himself in harm's way because of that man. Father, I insist you do something about this! On October 2__nd__, the same two aforementioned Gryffindors attempted to hex Harry at the lake. Fortunately, Harry's wand was quicker and one of them ended up hanging in mid air by his ankles for the best part of the day. Severus informs me it was quite the sight. I'm sorry to have missed it. _

"_On October 9__th__, someone botched mine and Harry's potion. We assume it was the same Gryffindors. They placed Basilisk scales in a healing draught and could very well have killed us had Tom not erected a shield in time. As it were, many Slytherins received minor burns, and I believe we gave Severus heart failure. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan are their names, Severus thinks they are hurting Harry on Dumbledore's orders._"

"Do you recognize those names Lucius?" Voldemort asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Lucius frowned. "One is a half-blood. His mother is an Irish witch I believe. The other I do not recognize."

"A Mudblood then," Voldemort concluded. "Continue."

"_If that isn't bad enough, on October 11__th__, the castle locked down, with Harry outside, alone, on a full moon. Fortunately Harry is fine. But Tom said Dumbledore was the one who found him and took him to the infirmary. Tom also suspects that Dumbledore recognized his magical signature (he performed some warming and cleaning charms after Harry had fallen asleep). That isn't dangerous for them is it? That Dumbledore may know? It isn't like the old man will think it's our Lord at Hogwarts, right? _

_"Anyway, school has been going rather well for me. The work isn't overly hard, but it isn't too simple either. I'm doing well, and the professors have informed me that they are pleased with my progress this year, as well as Harry's. Also, as I mentioned before I came to an understanding about my feeling for someone. I don't mind if our Lord hears, because since Tom already knows and I haven't been attacked yet, I suppose his knowing can't be too detrimental to my health. I love Harry – but as family. I consider Harry a part of our family and I honestly don't care if you disagree father. I just wanted you to know that, ok. Send Dorian's love to his uncle, please._

"_Much love, to both yourself and to mother. I'll write as soon as I can._

"_Your son, Draco._" Lucius folded the letter back up and placed it in his pocket. He inclined his head respectfully and when Voldemort waved his hand dismissively, Lucius backed out of the room.

Voldemort growled lowly, he had suspected something was wrong with Harry. He could feel Harry's emotions and Tom's when the boy was in control of Harry's body. Lately Harry's emotions had been all over the place, and it was suspicious. While he and Tom had planned Dumbledore's death in the boys' private Chamber, he had not really known what it was all about. He had been angry with Dumbledore for daring to use Harry to destroy his Horcruxes but he realized now that Tom was angry because Dumbledore had been hurting Harry.

Voldemort was even more worried about Harry now, and he wasn't any happier about being worried.

_XXX_

Dumbledore was playing with a gold locket when Dorian bumped into him. The older man was just standing in the hallway, seemingly fascinated by an egg-sized pendant that hung off of a thick gold chain. Dorian hadn't been looking where he was going, and had bumped into Dumbledore's back. "Sorry!" He said immediately, and then realized who it was. He caught sight of the pendant when Dumbledore turned around. It had an 's' carved into it and it was covered in small green gems.

"Not a problem my boy. In fact I had hoped to bump into you today." He paused and smiled, tucking the locket into his pocket. "Actually, you're the one doing the bumping into today, I suppose." Dorian just raised an eyebrow. "Come my boy. We can speak in my office."

"Well," Dorian said quietly. He didn't really want to be alone with the man in his office. He wouldn't be able to hear Tom and his link with Voldemort would be too strained to be of any use. He was without Draco, and neither Remus nor Severus knew he was going to be with Dumbledore. They all thought he was going to have a nap during his free period, and the others would all have class so he really would be alone. "Uh, I suppose." He said when Dumbledore's eyes narrowed at him.

"_Don't do it Harry!_" Tom warned as Harry made his way to the headmaster's office.

"**I have to. I can help find the Horcruxes then I can steal them and bring them back to Voldemort. I can't just let Dumbledore destroy them all.**" The boy had his arms folded across his chest. They were both standing in their Chamber of Secrets, one at each side of the bed separated from each other. Harry climbed onto the bed and reached out for his lover. "**Tom please. You can't tell me you want Dumbledore to get his hands on the Horcruxes**."

"_At least tell someone you're with him_." The other boy bit out, climbing onto the bed and taking Harry into his arms.

Voldemort appeared, standing at the bottom of the bed looking disorientated. "You wished to speak with me?"

"**I'm going with Dumbledore to search for the Horcruxes. I'll contact you when I've returned. Tom**," he gave the boy a mock glare. Tom just pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, and that made Voldemort's stomach clench in jealousy. "**Is being over protective again. I'll be fine. I have to go now.**" He disappeared from Tom's arms and from the Chamber.

Tom and Voldemort looked at one another as they were pushed from Harry's mind. "_He is in Albus' office now then_." Tom said needlessly.

"I love him." Voldemort blurted out. Tom's head snapped around so he could stare at Voldemort. He only looked mildly surprised. Mostly he looked jealous. "I won't apologize. I don't care for people, but I seem to have found myself caring greatly for Harry, but you would hardly be able to judge me. I would like to inform you, that while I love Harry, my conscious (which I never used to listen to before meeting Lord Indelible)," he gave a soft snort and Tom's lips twitched in response. "My conscious will not allow me to pursue the boy while he is in a relationship with you."

"_I will not leave him._" Tom said coldly.

"I am not asking you too. I just wanted you to know how I felt about him so you could take care of him for both of us." Voldemort faded out, leaving Tom alone in the Chamber to think about things. His thoughts kept straying to Harry, and he hoped the boy left Dumbledore's office soon.

_XXX_

The Horcruxes had been collected with little effort on Dumbledore's part. Dorian was the one who had to collect the Gaunt ring from their cottage while Dumbledore waited outside. Dorian didn't even know what he was looking for; he had to have Voldemort's mind in his head the whole time, so the elder man could tell him what to look for. Unfortunately, Dumbledore seemed to have done something to Dorian without anyone noticing because whenever Tom tried to take control of Dorian he ended up unconscious while Dorian felt very dizzy for a while after. He had planned on duplicating all of the Horcruxes and keeping the real ones hidden in their Chamber, but that plan wasn't going to work since Dorian didn't know how to duplicate.

Dorian slid the ring on his finger, wincing as it made his hand feel as if it were on fire. Then it stopped and he came outside and held his hand up for Dumbledore to see. There were black stains around the tips of his fingers already, as if the skin was beginning to rot. Dorian looked down at the marks with wide eyes but Dumbledore only let out a sigh. Albus smiled though as the black marks began to heal by themselves, and soon disappeared completely. It meant he was right. Only Voldemort could wear his Horcruxes without worrying about the consequences and since Dorian had healed it meant that the Dark Lord really had possessed him.

"That poor boy," he murmured.

"What was that, sir?"

"I said well done, boy. I'm very proud of you." They went to find the next Horcrux, and the next. Each time it was Dorian that was made to find and retrieve the item. It was like Dumbledore was continuously testing him, either that or he didn't want to injure himself and didn't care what harm might befell the young man.

When they arrived back at Hogwarts they were only short of Helga Hufflepuff's cup. "We shall find a way to retrieve that tomorrow, my boy. You should get some rest." Dorian didn't argue. He was far too tired. His eyes locked on Dumbledore's hand as the man closed a draw in a press behind his desk. Dorian smiled. So that was where Dumbledore was hiding the Horcruxes.

"Yes sir. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early," Dumbledore said with a smile, locking the draw with his wand.

_XXX_

December 19th 1995.

It had taken slightly longer to legally gain access to search the Lestrange vault. Since all three remaining Lestranges were escaped criminals there was nothing they could do to contest the search warrant, but it still took time for Dumbledore to find proof to show the Minister that he didn't mind the world knowing about. The cup was carried out of Gringotts by Dorian, and was later shrunk and hid inside of the draw in the press behind Dumbledore's desk.

It had been over a month since he had started helping find the Horcruxes and so far he hadn't been asked to help destroy any of them, so Harry assumed that they were all still in tact. With a sigh, he stopped pacing. He looked up at the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office and bedchambers. This had to go to plan, Harry couldn't afford to have anything go wrong. He had one change to steal the Horcruxes and then get out of Hogwarts. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving the following day at noon for the Christmas holidays and Harry needed to be on that train with the Horcruxes in his possession. He wouldn't need to come back after the holidays, and it wouldn't be safe either. Dorian would be the only person who knew that the Horcruxes were in the building, and it would be suspicious that they had disappeared just after they had all been gathered together.

He whispered the password, relieved to find that it had not changed over the past week. He gripped his wand tightly. Tom's new wand was in the Chamber of Secrets, with Tom as the boy slept peacefully. He hadn't been informed that Harry would be doing this tonight. He didn't want to give Tom the opportunity to talk him out of it. It needed to be done, Tom and Voldemort had been in agreement with that, but Harry doubted they would be happy that he was here on his own.

His holly and phoenix feather wand felt heavy in his hand and he took another deep breath before he started to walk up the stairs. In Dumbledore's office he quickly made his way to the draw. His wand poked through the keyhole and he whispered "Alhomora" but nothing happened. With a frown, Harry searched Dumbledore's desk for a key but found none. Instead he found the man's wand. Smirking, Harry grabbed it, and jammed it in the lock. "Alhomora," he said again.

He was unconscious by the time the draw popped open.

Dumbledore had watched him from the corner of the office. He had frowned, but steeled himself for what had to be done. It was for the greater good. He cast a stunner as Dorian used his wand to open the draw. He caught the green-eyed boy as he fell to the floor.

With a frown, Dumbledore picked up the fallen wands. He placed his own back into his pocket and gasped at the sight of the other. "Harry?" He asked with a frown. "Harry Potter?" He laughed quietly.

Disregarding the fact that he had seen two auras when he had cast the spell on the boy in early October, he still believed Harry's soul to have been destroyed by Tom Riddle's. "Tom," he whispered with another laugh. He grabbed the child and pulled a small black bag out from under his desk. The Horcruxes were in the bag, and the wand had been left on his desk on purpose, for the draw was empty, and Albus needed Harry to complete the ritual to destroy the Horcruxes in one go.

With Harry's body in his arms and the black bag thrown over one shoulder, Dumbledore flooed to Grimmauld Place. He fire called Minerva to let her know he would not be present for the following few days and claimed it had something to do with Voldemort. She didn't ask any more questions.

Harry was tied to a bed in one of the spare rooms on the second floor. The bag full of Horcruxes was left at the side of the bed, in Harry's line of sight, almost to torment the boy once he woke up. Dumbledore left to prepare for the ritual.

_XXX_

December 20th 1995.

When Draco woke up, he gave a small yawn and stretched. He was rather shocked not to see Harry sitting on the other sofa watching him wake up. The brunette had started doing that at the start of October. It had freaked Draco out at first but he had gotten used to it. When Draco had woken, Harry usually lay down beside him and Draco hugged him for a short time, well, until Tom got jealous and insisted they separate. It was strange not to have Harry waiting for his morning hug.

Remus came out of his bedroom a minute later with a large smile on his face. Draco nodded to him and went to check Harry's room. Neither Harry nor Tom was in there. The bathroom was empty as well. As if knowing what was going through Draco's mind, Remus laughed lightly. "Your brother was probably famished. He hasn't been eating well this last week. He's probably in the Great Hall as we speak."

Draco blushed at the word 'brother'. It was how he felt about Harry, but it still surprised him that Remus accepted it so easily. It was Remus' godson, his family, which they were talking about, and the werewolf had happily accepted the fact that Draco was claiming Harry as a member of his own family (with his father's permission, according to the elder man's last letter).

"Yeah, I suppose he is." Draco nodded goodbye, and headed to the Great Hall. Remus watched him leave with a fond smile on his face.

"Hey," he greeted Blaise as he sat down at the Slytherin table. Dumbledore was notably absent from the Head table. He looked around the hall, but he couldn't see Dorian anywhere. It wouldn't be unusual for the boy to be sat at the Gryffindor table with Granger or the Weasley twins, but he wasn't. "Has anyone seen Dorian?"

Pansy gave a soft sob at the other boy's name, but said nothing. Blaise rolled his eyes. "He's probably already in class. He eats in the kitchens sometimes you know."

"Yeah I know." Draco said softly, biting his bottom lip. "You're probably right." He wanted to believe Blaise, just like he had wanted to believe Remus was right, but Draco just couldn't help but have a bad feeling about Harry's absence.

**XXX**

This chapter was so hard to write. I hate Horcruxes. It would have been longer but the Horcrux scenes weren't playing out the way I wanted them too, so I deleted them. Sorry.

Please review me – you know you wanna!


	13. Love's Sacrifice

When I had the chapter's planned out, this looked to be my favourite so far

When I had the chapters planned out, this looked to be my favourite so far. I'm all worried that when I write it (the beginning a/n comes before I start the chapter) I won't like it as much as I thought I would. Fingers crossed.

You're all going to hate me. Character death warning.

**Words: **4,929

**Chapter 13**

**Love's Sacrifice**

December 20th 1995.

Marvolo Hayes sneered as he brushed the soot off of his robes. Floo travel always, without fail, covered him in ashes and filth, and made him want to sneeze. He rubbed his nose subtly, and glanced behind him as the fireplace sprung to life again and Sirius Grey fell out. Marvolo snorted. Yes, Sirius actually fell out of the fireplace. The other man looked up with a smirk, still lying face down on the floor of Dumbledore's office.

Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat politely and smiled at them both. "Now that you're both here, shall we fetch Dorian?" She had sent for the boy when she had received Marvolo's letter, but since he still hadn't arrived she had decided to go to him directly.

With a nod, Sirius picked himself up and followed the other two from the office.

"I apologize for Albus' absence, but something important came up." The way she avoided their eyes as she spoke was all they needed to guess it had something to do with Voldemort. Sirius tensed, suddenly uncomfortable. The sooner they got Harry away from that school the better he'd feel.

They came to a stop outside of the boys' room. Thetis waved at them, looking remarkably like Lord Voldemort. She gave Marvolo a wink and shifted back into her natural guise. "Password?" She said with a giggle as the fairies swept over to pull her hair. The Whomping willow swatted at the fairies with her branches, and Thetis laughed as she moved back and forth on her tree swing.

Minerva looked at the two men who shrugged. She let out a frustrated sigh, and rapped her knuckles on the portrait. "Mr. Grey? Mr. Malfoy? Open up please."

The portrait flung open and Draco Malfoy glared at whoever dared to interrupt him. He sighed when he realized who it was and opened the portrait wider, allowing the other three entrance. He went back to his packing, as Remus watched in amusement from the sofa. While Draco transfigured one sofa into a bed at night and slept on it, he still kept his clothing in Harry's room, because Tom didn't have any to take up the spare space.

"I assume Dorian is already gone, but he didn't pack so I guess that is why you are here." Draco snorted. He had come to the conclusion half way through the day that Dorian must have gone home early; it was the only possible explanation. He had obviously gotten the Horcruxes and then hightailed it away from Dumbledore. That belief was only reinforced when his father wrote to inform him that neither he nor Dorian would be taking the Hogwarts Express that evening. The Express left early going to Hogwarts, and left late coming home. Most of his friends had finished packing and were making their way to Hogsmeade at that moment. "So like him, he is always leaving everything to the last minute. I cannot believe he forgot to pack before he left!"

"Left?" Minerva asked confused. "We're here to pick him up, he can't have left!"

"Well, last night he went to see the headmaster. He wasn't back when I went to bed, but I figured he was in the library or something. And I couldn't find him this morning, but when father wrote to say we weren't taking the Express I assumed he had portkeyed home early." Draco explained. The more he talked the more he realized that horrid, suffocating feeling that was pressing on his chest and his heart was fear. He was afraid again. He suddenly realized something that had become clear to both Sirius and Voldemort almost immediately. Dumbledore had Harry!

He opened his mouth but Sirius squeezed his shoulder hard. "We'll find him. He can't have gone far."

"Where is Albus? I want to speak with him." Marvolo demanded, his face set in a scowl. Inside he was burning with anger though he appeared to be calm. How dare that man lay a hand, or a wand, on his Harry? Voldemort gritted his teeth together as he fought to control his temper. He tried to reach out to Tom, but the other part of his soul wasn't answering. Dumbledore had obviously attempted to block their connection again. He could, however, feel Harry, which was good. Unfortunately Harry was unconscious.

"I already informed you, Albus is currently busy." Minerva said.

Remus tensed. "Busy kidnapping students," he mumbled and met Sirius' eyes with a frown. Minerva heard what he said and immediately bristled.

"How dare-?" She began but Marvolo cut her off.

"No, how dare you? My son is missing, woman, and all you can do is defend your precious Albus. Who, I might point out, was the last person to see my son." His arms were crossed over his chest and he was glaring daggers at everyone in the room in turn. "Now, if we could try and locate my son?"

Draco swallowed heavily. As the adults argued he had continued packing his trunk, almost on autopilot. He was aware that his hands were folding clothing and lying them in the trunk, but the larger part of his brain couldn't make his hands stop moving. He sniffled softly. His fingers trembled and what he was holding dropped to the floor. He clenched his hands, before bringing a fist up to rub at his eyes. He had started crying and he hadn't even realized. "He'll be ok?" He asked softly, looking at his Lord.

"He will be." Voldemort answered with conviction. He would kill anyone he had to, anyone who kept him from Harry, and anyone who prevented him from rescuing Harry; most especially Dumbledore. "We will not be needing your services," he told Minerva dismissively. "If you see Albus inform him that I want a word."

He took Draco by the shoulder, while Remus grabbed his half packed trunk and Sirius quickly 'accioed' all of Dorian's things. They all took hold of Marvolo, who activated the Portkey back to Malfoy Manor. When they arrived, Draco collapsed to the floor and took three deep breaths. "He'll be ok?"

Lord Voldemort allowed his body to morph from Marvolo Hayes to his original form and he frowned. "I will do everything in my power to assure that Harry is fine. We will find him, and he will be safe."

"Mr. Lupin," Lucius said softly as he made an appearance in the atrium. "How glad I am that you joined us." They shook hands. "Where's Harry?" He was met with several sorrowful looks, and one extremely pissed off glare. "Ah," he said in sudden understanding. He was worried, of course, but this was something they should have expected. "Dumbledore."

_XXX_

December 20th 1995.

He groaned lightly and shifted on the bed. Consciousness returned to him slowly, almost sluggishly, as if it were desperately trying to cling to the remains of sleep. He didn't particularly want to wake up, but he knew there was a reason he should. That reason just kept slipping past the edge of his memories and he knew he needed to wake before the thought would fully come to him.

"Where am I?" He groaned as his eyes fluttered open. It was very late by the time Harry had woken, so all he could see was darkness. He blinked his eyes a few more times, and tried to concentrate on the room. He was lying on a bed, that was obvious, and there were no windows and one door. He tried to sit up but found he was unable. He turned his head and bit back a snarl as he caught sight of the ropes that bound his wrists to the headboard. His legs, though, were free. He tensed his legs, bending them and trying to gain leverage so when he pulled he might have enough strength behind it to snap the ropes, but it didn't work.

Hissing, the pain in his wrists suddenly frightening him, he looked around a bit more frantically. There was a bedside cabinet. His holly and phoenix feather wand was lying on top, snapped in to two pieces. He was short of a wand, unless he could get Tom's from out of their Chamber, and whoever had him knew he was Harry Potter.

A small black lump on the floor caught his attention. It was a bag. He didn't recognize it, but he tried to focus on it, to sense whether it was dangerous to him. Instead, he sensed the horcruxes. They felt like Tom did to him, and a little bit like Voldemort. They were right there, if he could reach them. "No," he muttered, "have to get untied first."

He heard footsteps, and then what sounded like a door banging, from directly underneath him. Obviously this place wasn't very sound proofed. The second the door had closed someone began screaming. Harry wished he could cover his ears, but his hands were otherwise occupied being restrained. The woman's voice was horrible, high pitched and nasal. It wasn't like she had nice things to say either.

"BLOOD TRAITORS!" she roared. "FILTHY MUDBLOODS IN MY HOME. GET OUT!" She wailed. "OUT OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!" Harry smiled, Sirius' home. He was in Sirius' home. That wasn't so bad, especially since Sirius owned the deeds to the place again, and knew its Secret. If the others could figure out where he was, then they would be able to get to him; Dumbledore was stupid for hiding him here. But, Albus didn't know Sirius knew the Secret of number 12 Grimmauld Place. "MUDBLOODS AND BLOOD TRAITORS DEFILING THE HOME OF MY FATHERS. DISGUSTING HALF BREEDS!" She kept wailing and Harry almost smiled at the thought of who was being abused. He was sure he didn't like them, especially if they were helping Dumbledore tie him down. "MUDBLOOD!!" She wailed. Harry heard someone else speak and then the shouting stopped.

Downstairs, Hermione Granger smiled proudly as she magiked Mrs. Black's curtain closed. Dumbledore had been telling them about the Horcruxes, and about how he was close to destroying them once and for all, when suddenly the door had opened and Dung Fletcher had appeared. Late. She had arrived, along with the Weasleys, the moment the Express had arrived at Kings Cross. They had all flooed over from the Magical side of the train station.

Hermione was a little upset that she hadn't seen Harry, so she couldn't say goodbye to him. But she would see him next term, and if they were all lucky, the war would be over by then. She wasn't sure whom she wanted to win. She supported Dumbledore because he sided with her kind, Mudbloods, and Muggles. But Voldemort was taking care of Harry, and Tom Riddle lived in her friend's head. She sighed, who ever won, won, and that was all there was too it, and she'd have to learn to live with the outcome.

"As I was saying," Albus said with a smile. "Anyone who used to sleep on the second floor will have to move elsewhere. The second floor is off limits for the time being; it is where I intend to perform the ritual. If anyone is on the floor, the magic of the ritual could pick up your magical signature and draw off of your energy." He said it all as if he were really concerned for their safety. The magic wouldn't use anyone other than the sacrifice, and Albus knew it. He just didn't want to run the risk of them finding Harry Potter tied to a bed.

"If that is all," no one said anything to the contrary, "then you may all go." Everyone left Grimmauld Place in his or her own parties, and Hermione sighed. As she walked to the fireplace, she looked at the staircase, wondering why the second floor? Why not the dungeon or the third, forth or first floor? It was, though she didn't know it, because all of the rooms on the second floor were windowless and Dumbledore didn't want Harry guessing where he was.

"Goodbye Headmaster," she said with a soft smile. Stepping into the fireplace, she frowned, as Albus began to make his way up the stairs. She was sure he would keep going up the next flight, but he didn't. As the flames sprung up and whisked her away, she was able to catch a glimpse off him walking calmly down the corridor on the second floor. She really wanted to know what he was hiding up there.

_XXX_

December 23rd 1995.

Harry had been tied to that bed for three days and while a house elf reluctantly brought him food and water, and banished his waste, he hadn't been untied. Nor had an actual person stepped foot in the room.

He was sure his friends were looking for him, why wouldn't they be?

Downstairs, Minerva had flooed over. Marvolo Hayes had owled her a total of eighty times in the past three days, demanding to meet with Dumbledore, and insisting she share the location of his son with him. Marvolo was convinced the boy had been kidnapped, despite Minerva's protests otherwise. She had finally grown tired of being bombarded like this. Despite Albus telling her not to, she had arrived at Grimmauld Place.

"I demand you do something," she said thrusting the bag filled with parchment to him. "It has been incessant. He is convinced you took his son."

"I did," Albus said plainly. "But it isn't his son. It's Harry Potter." Minerva's mouth dropped open.

She wasn't sure if she was shocked, horrified or down right confused, but she managed to gather enough wits about herself to demand an explanation. So Albus explained. Unknown to either of them, Hermione had come down from the fourth floor, where she was staying over Christmas with the Weasleys and she heard every word. She had merely been unable to sleep, and had opted to go to the library, but having heard Minerva's demands she couldn't stop herself from listening.

Honestly, she thought, there are places more private to talk than the kitchen if they didn't want others to hear.

She swallowed heavily. They knew who Dorian was? Quickly, but quietly and carefully, she made her way back up the first flight of stairs. She stopped at the landing, allowing herself to think that maybe this was all some sort of plan, orchestrated to catch a spy. So, with a deep breath, she began to open every door in the hallway, and the next. She wouldn't tell anyone, not until she saw Harry for herself.

With a gasp, she found him. He was sleeping, but he looked unharmed. His wand was still on the bedside table and was snapped in half and that brought tears to her eyes. It had been such a beautiful wand, and to have it survive Azkaban only to be snapped later was horrible. She left the room quietly, without waking him, and made the last two flights of stairs before Albus even left the kitchen.

"I'll help you Harry," she told herself as she slipped into her bed. It was a twin room, but the other bed was empty. Ginny wasn't there to share it with her anymore. That thought reinforced her other ones. No more children would die for this war, she swore, especially not someone who could help end it.

_XXX_

December 25th 1995.

Christmas day was a solemn one this year. It had been a week, and yet no one had any clue where Harry was. They had searched the school – Lucius pulling a few strings with his fellow Governors – they had Ministry raids on Dumbledore's own home, with no success. Minerva still denied her boss kidnapped Harry, and Albus still wouldn't speak with Voldemort.

"Doesn't his Order have a headquarters?" Draco asked quietly, turning a finely wrapped box over in his hands. No one was particularly interested in opening their presents. All of Harry's sat in a pile, untouched, and every now and then Sirius or Voldemort would look over at it and frown.

"Yes, but we don't want him to know we know the location. It's a last attempt kind of raid." Sirius said with a half smile. "He'll be fine."

"Tom will look after him right?" Remus said softly, running his fingers over his face. The full moon was in a week and he was tired and grouchy. Worrying about Harry wasn't helping his inner wolf any either.

"I doubt it," Voldemort snarled. "If I can't feel Tom, nor contact him, then I doubt Harry can either." He scratched the back of his neck, looking suddenly defeated for a second before his mask was back on. "Harry's alone in there."

The fireplace sprung to life. The occupants of Malfoy Manor all had their wands out. Hermione Grangers face floated above the fire, and she looked very nervous. "I know where Harry is." She said hurriedly. "Don't worry, I'm at the Weasley twins' shop, Dumbledore won't hear about this conversation." It was enough for Remus and Sirius to lower their wands.

"Speak girl." Lucius drawled. His wife frowned, her hand squeezing his and silently asking him to put his wand away. So he did. "Please?" He added reluctantly.

"He is at the Order headquarters." Draco looked smug all of a sudden; he kept shooting people 'I-told-you-so' looks. "He's on the second floor, tied to a bed, in a warded room. His wand has been snapped, and Dumbledore is planning on using him to destroy all of the horcruxes."

"You know about them?" Voldemort asked with a sneer.

"I over heard him telling Professor McGonagall why he had Harry. I don't understand the ritual, I can't even pronounce it and he didn't explain it, but I'm sure it's bad." If they could see Hermione's hands, it was likely she'd be wringing them. She was worried and nervous then.

"Minerva's reaction," Remus asked. "What was it like?"

"She paled a great deal, and crossed herself."

"Dark Arts then." Lucius decided. "I'll search the library. You go and get Harry." Voldemort and Sirius nodded, both ignoring the fact that Lucius seemed to be taking charge of their rescue mission. "Thank you Granger."

"I'm helping Harry, not you." She said curtly and disappeared from the fireplace.

In Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore smiled to himself as he made his way from one room on the second floor to another. He opened the door and smiled. Hermione had said the room was warded, and it was, against Harry. Anyone else could open the door and attempt to take Harry out, but he wouldn't be able to pass the threshold unless Dumbledore was touching him.

"Hello my boy, it has been so long." He smiled down at the young man who was straining forwards, trying to free his arms to he could strangle the elder Wizard. "I hope Kreacher has been taking care of you."

He waved his own wand, and Harry was no longer tied to the bed. Instead the boy's hands were tied together behind his back. Dumbledore grabbed the collar of his robe and pulled him forward. Harry lurched slightly. His legs were numb from lying down for five days straight, and he would have fallen, but Albus' other hand wrapped around his waist. "There you go, my boy," he said calmly, as if he wasn't the cause of Harry's pain.

He led Harry to the other room, the one he had been in earlier. The door closed behind them, and locked. Albus sat Harry down in the middle of the room. He was sitting so his butt rested on his feet, and his legs were bent under him. His arms were still tied behind him so his back was rather straight as well. He looked uncomfortable, and worried, but Albus just smiled slightly.

With another flick of his wand, five candles lit up. They were spread across the room, one in each corner and one floating in mid air directly between Harry and Dumbledore. Each of the candles was white, but as they burnt, something wet and red began to drip down the sides, like melting wax. Harry wondered if it was blood.

A pentagram had been drawn on the floor, and both Wizards were sitting inside of a large circle in the pentagrams center. A second circle was around the first and a Star of David joined both circles, the center of the star was beneath the floating candle. More diagrams had been drawn on the wall; in what Harry was convinced was blood. There were runes as well, but he hadn't taken that class, so the only one he recognized was the one that meant 'suffering', because it was engraved on the front door of Azkaban. He trembled lightly, but he didn't want to give Dumbledore the satisfaction of scaring him, so he forced himself to stay still.

"**Please Tom, please**." He thought desperately. It didn't matter how many times he had tried to contact Tom over the last god-knows-how-long-it-has-been it hadn't worked. He was blocked off from his lover and he couldn't help but be terrified.

He couldn't even get in contact with Voldemort. He could tell the man was angry and worried, but words just wouldn't form. He couldn't communicate, and it felt like someone had cut out his tongue. He wasn't used to not being able to speak to these two special people in his life, and it felt weird and wrong to him. He straightened his back and raised his chin defiantly, narrowing his eyes at Dumbledore.

The man had a knife in his left hand, and it looked rather deadly. Harry gulped. "The Order had gone to enjoy Christmas brunch in Diagon Alley, my treat, so no one will interrupt us."

He smiled at Harry as the boy continued to glare at him. "Now, now, Tom, really." Harry blinked in confusion. "Don't be like that, you knew I couldn't let you run off and join Voldemort. The thought of the two of you together is, well, not pleasant."

Tom? Harry thought with a frown. His eyes widened as he remembered something Lucius had told him. Dumbledore thought Harry's soul was destroyed. Albus thought he was Tom. He had blocked Tom's connection with Voldemort. Harry considered telling him that he was Harry, but he doubted Albus would believe him, or care.

"Let's begin, shall we." It was about now, that Hermione fire called Malfoy Manor.

Albus began to chant, the majority of the spell was in Latin or Arabic, and Harry honestly didn't know what was being said. But he heard 'Tom' spoken an awful lot and it gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. As Albus finished speaking he pulled the knife forward and cut the floating candle vertically down the center. It split into two parts, and that red liquid began to low forth, quicker and thicker. A puddle formed in the center of the pentagram, and began to flow outwards, along the lines of the Star of David. When the star was bright red and the floating candle had bled away until there was only two little burning stubs left, Albus drove the knife down into the floor directly between him and Harry.

Suddenly, Harry could hear screaming, and he knew it wasn't his. A blinding white light lit up the room, and suddenly Tom was sitting beside him, in the same position, but his hands were pressed to his chest and he was panting harshly. "Harry?" He whispered. His hand reached out to caress his cheek softly, his eyes teared up. "You're ok?" Harry sighed, a small sob working its way out of his throat. What ever Dumbledore had done obviously hadn't worked, and now Tom was here, with him.

Dumbledore was watching in shock. That was not supposed to happen. Tom was not supposed to appear, not next to Harry. "Harry?" He said softly but neither boy heard him. Harry couldn't be alive. It wasn't possible.

Before he could speak again, the knife began to glow, and Tom let out a soft groan. Albus quickly grabbed the black bag and pulled out the horcruxes. Each one was placed at the tips of the star. Somehow he had even managed to kidnap and subdue Nagini. Nagini, the diadem, the locket, the ring, and the cup; he just had to destroy these items and Voldemort would be so easy to rid the world of. As the knife glowed, each of the items began to light up as well. Tom gave an agonized shout, and a white light sprung forth from his chest, much like how he had disappeared back into the journal after Harry had stabbed it.

Harry was screaming now as well. His forehead had begun to glow along with the other horcruxes and he wanted to scratch at it and to claw at the pain, but his hands were still tied up. He wanted to go to Tom, to hold him and kiss him, touch and cherish him, and to comfort him because Tom was screaming now as well.

Nagini exploded first. Blood and guts flew across the room, and Tom cried out again. Harry screamed in fear and pain as his forehead split open and his scar began to bleed furiously. When the pain passed, it was all he could do to stay conscious, but he had to. He wanted to. He needed to make sure Tom was ok.

He figured Tom wouldn't die. Tom wasn't the Horcrux, the journal had been; Tom was the soul. What Harry didn't know, was that the ritual required the sacrifice of a soul. Dumbledore had chosen to sacrifice Tom's soul. His green eyes met with Tom's and the other boy let out a groan. He did try to smile at his boyfriend though. "Love you," Tom whispered. "Goodbye," as another Horcrux blew apart.

"NO!" Harry said, the truth finally dawning on him. "No, please." He screamed again as the cup exploded and one handle flew at his face.

"I rather it was me, than you." Tom choked out. He started to cough and blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. The light grew brighter as a fifth Horcrux was destroyed. "Love you always, Harry."

"No, Tom, no please. Don't die." Harry whimpered as the last Horcrux blew up. Suddenly Tom gave an agonized shriek and the white light blinded everyone in the room. A large bang sounded and echoed through the room but Tom's screaming stopped. When Harry opened his eyes Tom was gone, the horcruxes were all destroyed and a fine sprinkling of dust fluttered down from the ceiling and onto him.

"Ashes to ashes," Dumbledore said solemnly as he stood up and brushed down his robes.

Someone was screaming again, and Harry thought it might be him, but he honestly didn't care. He managed to lurch to his feet and he ran at Dumbledore, his shoulder slamming into the other man's chest and knocking him to the floor. "I'll kill you!" He shrieked as the screaming stopped again. He wanted to claw those twinkling blue eyes out of the man's head but his hands were still tied up so he tried biting at Dumbledore's face instead. He didn't care how, but he had to hurt the man somehow.

Suddenly the door blew open and a handful of Death Eaters flew into the room. Dumbledore immediately disappeared with a 'pop', fleeing the opposing forces. He supposed he had better warn the Order that Voldemort knew about Grimmauld Place.

The moment he was gone, Harry collapsed to the floor and curled up in the fetal position. A sob welled from his throat and he cried, his face pressed to the floor. Someone tugged at the rope around his wrists and Harry's hands were suddenly free. He moved his arms so they were wrapped around his chest, pressing against it, trying to keep his heart from falling out. He felt like he was dying.

"I can't breath," he whispered and Draco picked him up and rocked him lightly. "I feel like I can't breath."

Draco whispered comforting words as the Death Eaters watched them. Sirius, Voldemort, Lucius and the two male Lestrange brothers frowned at the sight. Harry looked unharmed so they weren't sure what had been done to him. But then Lucius recognized the pentagram and the runes. "Tom," he whispered in understanding and Harry screamed again.

"Take me away." He said, his throat sore and dry, when he had finished screaming again.

"Malfoy Manor?" Harry tensed. "Heaven's Haze?" He asked, referring to Marvolo's home.

"Somewhere I never went with Tom." Harry said back quietly. He was slumped in Draco's arms, and the blond looked as distraught as Harry felt. Draco closed his eyes, held tightly to Harry and apparated them to Riddle Manor. He wasn't old enough to apparate legally, but Lucius made sure he learnt just in case. The moment they arrived, Draco let Harry go and he curled up on the floor again. Draco lay down behind him, and just held him, listening to him cry.

He cried all night, moaning Tom's name desperately after he had fallen asleep, and Draco kissed his hair and rubbed his back and whispered that everything would be all right, even though they both knew it wouldn't be. When Harry woke the next morning, he tried to speak with Tom, forgetting about the night before. When Tom didn't answer, he remembered.

And when he remembered, he screamed.

**XXX**

Well, bare in mind the main pairing is Voldemort/Harry, not Tom. Sorry to those who hate me, but you should have seen something like this coming. Please review, even if you hate me now.

**IMPORTANT A/N:** I'm going away for two weeks, so I was trying to get this out before I left, which was hard cause I really hate killing off my favourite characters. And now you're all going to have to wait till I come back from Venice to find out what happens next. To make it up to you, I will say in the next chapter Dorian drops out of Hogwarts, and Voldemort finally admits he loves Harry, to Harry. And! And I'm begging you all to suggest ways to kill Dumbledore – I've already used all my good ideas. I've burnt him at the stake, had him eaten by werewolves, etc. Give me something good.

Also, just did a new one shot, I think you should go check it out please, it's called JAKOSTA.


	14. Aftermath

Hey all, I know I wasn't going to update… But you deserved it.

I was going to do The Lambs, but I'm not in the mood for Fenrir.

Bear in mind, if someone you loved was dating your twin, and your twin died, do you think they would want to see you? No – and that is why Voldemort didn't follow Harry to Riddle Manor.

**Words: **3,397

**Chapter 14**

**Aftermath**

January 10th 1996.

The Hogwarts Express had turned out to be a fairly pleasant journey back to Hogwarts that morning. It was sunny outside, and most of the train's occupants spent their time looking out of the window or talking quietly about their holidays. A handful of students were more solemn. They didn't speak at all.

With a deep breath, Harry pushed open the doors of the great hall and walked inside. He was alone, like he always was when it counted. Everyone always left him. Draco was already sitting at the Slytherin table, and Harry smiled faintly as he caught sight of Tom sitting beside the blond. He headed over towards them, a huge grin appearing on his face. A persistent coughing from the other side of the room caught his attention and he looked over with a frown. Ron and Ginny were sitting at the Gryffindor table glaring at him. Hermione waved him over and he went. He sat down when Ron grabbed his sleeve. Harry was feeling rather confused.

"Why am I here?"

"You belong here." Ginny told him, her arm looping around his waist.

When he looked down, he realized she was right. He was a Gryffindor, the red and gold tie around his neck said as much. He looked over at the Slytherin table again but Draco was sneering at him, and Tom was gone. With a confused frown Harry looked around for his boyfriend.

Something came out of the table directly in front of him. With a shriek, Harry jumped away from the table. Landing on the floor, his eyes wide, he stared at the ghost that was now sitting in his seat. "Sit down, Harry!" Ron said, his mouth full.

"Where?" Harry looked to the left of the ghost and to the right, but there was nowhere else to sit.

"Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?" Hermione pointed at the ghost. She couldn't see it, to her, that seat was free.

Harry jumped to his feet; his hand trembled as he pointed at the ghost of Tom Riddle. "Which of you have done this?" Ginny and Ron started to laugh. Their heads were thrown back, and Tom laughed with them. As Tom laughed, his throat split open, and blood gushed forward from the wound. A river of blood ran down his robes and Harry shuddered, still shaking. "Thou canst not say I did it: never shake thy gory locks at me."

Albus stood up. He smirked, eyes narrowed with malice as he spoke. "Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well." **1** Tom was the only one who stood up. He moved from Harry's seat, slowly walking towards his lover. His hands reached out to grip the trembling boy's shoulders. Their faces met, Tom's lips crushed to his, and Harry could only think of how Tom tasted of ashes. It burnt his mouth.

At the head table, Albus smirked. "Ashes to ashes," he whispered as Tom turned to dust. Harry reached out for him with a cry, but only grabbed air. A fine sprinkling of dust floated down around his head, and stuck to the tears on his cheeks.

He woke, panting and sweating, his hands held out in front of him and his fists clenched. With a choked sob, he let them drop down at his sides. He sat, still, for a few minutes before sliding from the bed. He winced as his bare feet hit the cold floor, but he didn't put on socks or slippers. He needed the cold – the extreme feeling; he needed to know he was alive, because ever since Tom died Harry had trouble breathing. His lungs kept tightening whenever someone mentioned the other boy's name, and his throat closed up if he was asked to speak about it.

The only person he could bring himself to talk to was Draco. And now Draco was back at Hogwarts. Harry cast 'tempus' and frowned; lunch would be served around now in the great hall, he supposed.

He considered eating, but he really wasn't hungry. So he turned away from the bedroom door, and got back into bed. He didn't sleep, he was afraid to sleep. So he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. If he closed his eyes, in the dark, and breathed loudly, he could almost pretend Tom was lying beside him, breathing with him. He didn't open his eyes again until Sirius came to check on him three hours later.

"You've been in here all day, Harry." Harry opened one eye. Seeing it was Sirius, and not Tom like he had hoped, Harry rolled over and closed his eyes again. Sirius frowned at Harry's back and stood with a sigh. "Ok. I'll see you later then." Harry didn't reply as Sirius left.

Sirius sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he walked into the parlor. The elder Malfoys, Voldemort and Remus were waiting for him. Remus held out a cup of tea, and smiled softly. "Harry isn't doing well, Moony." He said quietly. Remus wasn't needed back at Hogwarts until the next day, which was the first day of classes.

The werewolf reached out to squeeze his lover's arm. Sirius sipped at his tea, and noticed with faint amusement that Voldemort's eyes never left the door he had entered by. If Sirius were to guess, he would say that Voldemort wanted nothing more than to go to Harry, to see Harry for his self. The animagus couldn't blame the Dark Lord; Harry had a habit of making people care for him. Draco hadn't allowed anyone near Harry more than necessary since they had come back from Riddle Manor two days after Tom's death. Lucius had seen Harry twice, and along with Remus had tried to coax what had happened out of the still hysterical boy. Each time, Draco had insisted they leave. Sirius has seen Harry a total of three times, including a few minutes ago, since Christmas Day. Two weeks had passed, and Harry was still as distraught as ever.

Now, they were without Draco, which meant that Harry wouldn't speak to anyone.

Remus frowned, rubbing at his eyes. "Poor cub," he whispered and Sirius hung his head slightly.

"He's a strong boy, he'll be ok," Narcissa said softly.

"He hasn't eaten for three days!" Lucius hissed, "and even then Draco had to pin him down and force feed him soup."

"He'll be fine," Voldemort spoke, finally turning his eyes away from the door. His gaze traveled over each person in the room, and obviously found them lacking because he turned back to stare at the door. A part of him hoped Harry would walk through it.

"He's survived worse." Narcissa said, talking about Azkaban.

"He is surviving, this," Voldemort added, not looking at her. She fell silent, pensive. They all continued to drink their tea, each of them waiting for Harry to walk into the room. A letter from Draco arrived at 10pm, and they listened while Lucius read it out loud. When Harry didn't appear by midnight, Remus flooed to Hogwarts.

Voldemort spent most of the early morning standing outside of Harry's bedroom door. His hand was poised to knock, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do so. He wasn't sure he was willing to find out if Harry had ever truly liked him, or if Harry just viewed him as another part of Tom. He honestly did love Harry, and he wanted Harry to love him in return, but even he wasn't desperate enough to settle for being Tom's substitute.

At around 4am, he went to bed. As he disappeared around the corridor, the bedroom door opened and Harry poked his head outside. He looked rather confused, but he looked around and saw no one, so he went back inside. He was sure he could feel Tom outside. "Maybe I'm going crazy," he whispered to the empty room.

He stood in front of the mirror, brushing his fringe back with his hand. "Maybe you already are," the reflection said snidely. Harry squinted, ignoring the words. If he looked at the reflection sideways, and ignored the scar, he could almost believe he was talking to Tom and not himself.

"I miss you." He breathed.

"You miss your sanity," the mirror returned and Harry frowned as the moment was ruined. He went back to bed, reluctantly closing his eyes and allowing himself to fall asleep again.

That night, he dreamt he was flying to Hogwarts with Ron, in Mr. Weasley's old Ford car. As they crashed into the Whomping willow, Harry didn't scream this time. Instead, he leant out of the window, trying to get a better look at something he had just glimpsed. Ron didn't notice; he was too busy shrieking and flailing, trying to avoid the dangerous branches.

Harry opened the door, and climbed out of the car. He landed on the ground, on his feet. He hardly noticed when the branches hit him, but didn't hurt him. His eyes were riveted on something. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was hanging from the only branch that didn't move. Three crows hovered around the top of whatever it was – was it a person? Harry thought suddenly.

The crows' beaks were stained red, and whatever was hanging there was wrapped in a black robe. Harry's hand reached out, grabbing at the black fabric. As he tugged, it fell away, dropping on top of Harry. He struggled free, frowning down at the large black curtain that lay at his feet. "What is that?" He asked, bending down to touch the veil. It began to sway, lying on the floor it ululated from side to side but Harry ignored it. Something else had caught his attention.

The person hanging from that tree was wearing Slytherin robes.

Harry gasped. The noise startled the crows, and they flew off, leaving the person's face visible. Harry felt a scream bubbling in his throat as he stared at Tom Riddle. The boy's face was almost transparent and his lips were blue. Where his eyes should have been, were only large bloody holes. His mouth opened, startling Harry, who stopped screaming.

"You son of a bitch," he whispered. Harry thought Tom would have been glaring, if the crows hadn't pecked out his eyes.

Tom fell still again, as the crows flew back to him, perching on his head and shoulders and began to eat at his face. Harry tried not to scream again, but he couldn't help it. He hoped the crows would fly away and leave Tom in peace but they didn't. Instead they flew at him. He shrieked, his hands waving in front of his face as he tried to fight off the crows. They pecked at his eyes, and he could feel blood dripping down his face.

When he woke, he was hysterical. Sirius found him, and rocked him back and forth softly as Harry begged him to wipe the blood off of his face. When Harry had calmed down, he realized it wasn't blood on his cheeks – but tears.

_XXX_

January 12th 1996. (Tuesday)

Draco was sitting with some of his friends, eagerly awaiting the end of his History of Magic class when the door opened and a nervous looking third year walked in. Professor Binns looked up with a sigh. The ghostly professor beckoned the boy over and took the note from the child's hand. "Mr. Malfoy. The sooner you go to the Headmaster, the sooner the class can get back to learning about goblin wars." There was a collective groan from the group.

Draco hurriedly grabbed his things, and followed the third year from the room. It was a Hufflepuff, Draco notice and he snickered. The boy flinched slightly. "What does he want?"

"He d-didn't say, sorry." The Hufflepuff answered and took off in the other direction.

When Draco arrived at the bottom of the spiraling staircase, he frowned. He hadn't been given the password, and he refused to make an imbecile of himself, so he remained silent and engaged in a staring contest with the stone gargoyle. Eventually the gargoyle consented, and jumped aside. Draco made his way up to the office, feeling rather smug.

"Sir," he greeted politely, sitting down. What he really wanted to do was ring the old man's neck, or feed him to a Preying Tentacular plant.

"Ah, Draco, good of you to come so soon."

"Professor Binns couldn't wait to get rid of me." He drawled, looking completely at home in the other man's office.

"Now, what I wish to speak to you about should be plainly obvious." Draco just rolled his eyes slightly, one of his eyebrows climbing higher on his forehead. "Now, now," Dumbledore chided. "Do you mean to say you had no idea that Dorian Grey was really Harry Potter?"

"No." Draco hissed. "Not until I went to rescue my _fiancé_, and realized I was hugging Scar-Head." He grimaced, looking remarkably disgusted by what had happened. Secretly, he was thinking about Filch naked. He was likely scarred for life.

"Really, now?" He hummed. "That is interesting. So, do you believe Marvolo knew the identity of his son?" Albus steepled his fingers beneath his chin and smiled at Draco.

"He hadn't a notion. Whatever potion Potter was using wore off after whatever you did to him. Father informs me Marvolo was outraged. I'm sure, if Emily Grey wasn't dead, he'd kill her himself."

"Why do you say that?" Albus asked curiously.

Draco repeated what Voldemort had told him to say. "As far as Sirius Black knew, Dorian was Emily's son; same as Marvolo. In fact, it is believed that Emily cast a wide spread memory charm so everyone would believe Harry was hers, so Marvolo could 'protect him'. Apparently she owed the Potter's a life debt." Draco lifted one shoulder into an uninterested shrug.

"I see." Albus drawled. "Well, onto another matter of business. As you are no longer affianced, you no longer have permission to reside in your private dorm. You will move back to Slytherin as soon as possible."

Draco looked horrified for a moment, before he schooled his features into a blank mask. Well, he hadn't exactly wanted to keep sleeping on a sofa all year, and he didn't want to sleep in Harry and Tom's bed either. So it was probably for the best, he decided. That didn't mean he was happy about this though; a Malfoy was never denied anything!

"What about Professor Lupin?" He asked, trying to look unconcerned.

"As a guardian, Remus will be allowed to retain possession of those rooms for the year. Unfortunately, you no longer are in need of a guardian. I'm afraid Remus may no longer stay on at Hogwarts. I've spoken to him earlier this morning about everything and he understands fully." Albus smiled and Draco allowed his lip to twitch slightly. He might as well as attempt to act polite. "You may leave."

That evening Draco waved goodbye to Thetis as the last of his possessions disappeared from the room. The house elves quickly unpacked everything in his old dorm. A quick hug from Remus later, and he turned, with his chin held high and made his way to the dungeons. Albus watched him, a calculating look in his eyes as he glanced between Draco and Remus and the portrait.

Thetis was glaring at him, looking like Voldemort, for the second time ever, her eyes glowing red. She pulled the hood of her black cape over her head, hiding her face in shadows. The she donned a white mask, which looked remarkably like a skull. A smirk was visible on her face, the lower half exposed by the mask. Albus narrowed his eyes at her, but she refused to change back. He glared at Remus instead.

"Dorian never did like that portrait," he said softly, emphasizing 'Dorian'. His fists were clenched at his side, but Albus never noticed. He flooed to Malfoy Manor ten minutes later.

_XXX_

January 18th 1996. (Monday)

Defense Against the Dark Arts used to be one of Hermione's favorite subjects. This year, she rather thought they could do without it. Delores Umbridge despised the use of a wand in the classroom, and insisted that they spend the entire year only (the OWLs year, no less) reading a seriously biased and outdated textbook. Hermione had read the whole thing in one double lesson, and then got detention for 'reading too fast' apparently.

It was unbelievable. And if it wasn't bad enough before, now she was being partnered with Draco Malfoy for the whole year.

The blond sneered at her when she caught his eyes. With a put upon sigh she stood, and left her seat. Hesitantly sliding into the empty chair beside Draco she frowned. "Is Dorian ok?" She mumbled. No one had told her what had happened.

"Tom's dead." Draco ignored her for the rest of the lesson. He seemed focused on listening to Umbridge speak.

Hermione's mind was awhirl with thought. Yes, Tom had killed Ginny. But Harry had loved Tom, and Tom had taken care of Harry for two years in Azkaban. She felt tears well in her eyes, a soft sob escaping her throat.

"Parkinson, Finnegan, you will research the uses of Dementors by the Ministry." Umbridge only had one couple left to assign a topic to. She caught Hermione's eyes as she opened her mouth again. More specifically, she noticed the tears. "Now, Granger, don't cry." She simpered, and Hermione felt her temper rising. "I saved something good for you." Her eyes were looking at Draco though. "The Headmaster thought you'd like to research possession, and the benefits of killing the possessing spirit." Hermione gasped.

She looked over at Draco, hoping to catch his reaction, but he didn't so much as blink. When they left the room, Hermione watched as Blaise squeezed Draco's shoulder while Pansy looked on. "Are you ok?" The blond girl asked. Obviously, the Muggleborn realized, these two Slytherins knew about Harry being possessed by Tom. Hermione waited for Draco's answer. Instead of speaking, he turned and punched the wall. A loud crack echoed down the hallway, and Hermione winced. Draco cradled his hand, the knuckles were likely broken, but he refused to go to the hospital wing. Instead he headed to the dungeons.

"I have been informed," Severus drawled as Draco entered his private rooms, "that you were engaged to Harry Potter." Draco just raised his chin higher, refusing to incriminate himself. "I will not breath a word of this to the Headmaster, Draco. I care for you. Let me help you."

"Harry needs help, not me." Draco said softly. Severus winced slightly, and Draco realized that he had given enough of an answer for Severus to realize Albus had told him the truth. "We weren't really engaged. The Dark Lord was jealous of the attention Harry kept receiving, so he told people Harry was engaged to me so they wouldn't try to court Harry." Severus nodded, before freezing.

"The Dark Lord was," he seemed unable to say it, "_jealous_?"

Draco laughed softly. "Crazy world, huh?"

"Apparently."

_XXX_

January 18th 1996. That night.

There was a thunderstorm happening outside on the night Voldemort finally worked up the courage to enter Harry's room. The child was asleep, fortunately. Voldemort walked nearer to the bed, hovering just at its edge. His hand snaked forward, pushing back Harry's fringe. His red eyes lingered on the scar for a second, before he leant forward. He pressed his lips to the scar, resting in that position for a minute. As he stood there, his lips pressed to Harry's forehead, the boy's green eyes snapped open.

"**You're alive**?" He thought. All he could make out was a dark clothed shape.

Voldemort pulled back, and Harry's eyes squeezed closed again. The Dark Lord carded his fingers through Harry's hair, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you, my Harry." He whispered, barely loud enough to hear. But Harry heard him. Tom was already at the door when Harry answered him. The boy kept his eyes closed, just in case he was disappointed.

Voldemort froze as Harry spoke. The one word Harry had said was ringing in his ear, but Voldemort couldn't bring himself to answer. So he left the room—

"Tom?"

—And Harry didn't follow him.

**XXX**

**1** – the whole of that scene (from Ron telling Harry to sit, until till Dumbledore speaking) was taken from Macbeth, Act 3, and Scene IV. Macbeth's guilt at killing Banquo begins to drive him insane, (i.e. Harry blames himself for Tom's death).

**XXX**

Thanks. Please review. I have to get a plane tomorrow; I hate airports. But I love Regina Spektor – The Call. The Narnia soundtrack rocks.

Tom bought a wand in chapter 8 – but I didn't say what kind. Its yew, with a core of ground Thestral bones. Voldemort's is yew and phoenix feather, and Harry's has been snapped. Fenrir and the Werewolves arrive at Malfoy Manor in chapter 15.


	15. Moving On

Hello. It has been a while, but still. I'm back from Venice this week, and I updated THE LAMBS as promised, but I didn't work on BLACK COMPLICATION sorry. Here is an update for this fiction, and I hope you enjoy it.

Filler chapter – Yay?

**Words: **2,009

**Chapter 15**

**Moving On**

January 27th 1996.

The sound of his moans echoes through the room. The only other sound was that of flesh slapping against flesh. Harry arched his back, his fingers carding through silky black hair as the person on top of him leant down to kiss him. Tom grinned at his lover as Harry tried to pull him into a second kiss.

"No, no, dearest," Tom breathed out softly, "I'm in charge right now."

Tom pulled his face back, still smirking at Harry, as one of his hands moved down to wrap around Harry's swollen cock. The younger boy groaned, his hands tugging at Tom's hair.

"Oh please, oh please," he begged, much to Tom's delight.

"I want you to come for me Harry." Tom's thrusting sped up, he frantically moved against the other boy, moaning desperately as Harry's hands moved lower to cup his arse.

"Come with me," Harry asked.

Tom groaned, his eyes widened before he dropped his head to rest between Harry's shoulder and neck. He kissed the expanse of flesh softly, moaning, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

Harry cried out as his orgasm spread over him. He lay panting, as Tom continued to move within him. Tom suddenly let out a terrified scream, and a bright white light flooded the room. Harry squeezed his eyes closed, turning his face away and clamping his hands over his ears. When the light was gone, Harry frowned as he realized Tom wasn't lying on top of him anymore. He opened his eyes and sat up, but he couldn't see Tom anywhere.

Instead, a fine sprinkling of dust was falling from the ceiling down onto his body. It stuck to the sweat on his skin and he frantically tried to brush it off, but more and more kept falling. As the dust fell it swirled around in the air spelling out 'I Am Lord Voldemort'. Harry screamed and dived off of the bed.

Dumbledore watched from the corner of the room as Harry desperately tried to rid himself of the ashes, but they just kept falling on him, and him alone. The floor was spotless.

Harry woke with a scream, for the tenth day running. As with the last five days, Voldemort had crawled into the bed moments before Harry woke. The second the brunette's eyes snapped open, Voldemort pulled him into a hug and began rocking him lightly. His hand carded through Harry's hair, brushing it out of his eyes. He kissed the boys forehead lightly. Even after the Horcrux was destroyed, Harry still had his scar.

"Love you," Voldemort whispered holding Harry tight to his chest. "I'll make it ok, I will, I will." He promised futilely. He realized there was no point making a new Horcrux to replace Tom, and there was no way to return a Horcrux to life.

Harry sniffled. He knew there was nothing anyone could do for him other than be there. He just needed them there, needed them with him to make him heal faster or better or whatever. He didn't care: as long as he wasn't alone.

Most of all, Harry needed Him. But He wasn't here, so Harry just pretended.

"I love you too Tom." Voldemort stiffened but didn't say anything. He kept quiet for the next hour, merely holding Harry and rocking him, until the boy calmly pulled away and stepped out of the bed. "Thank you." Harry said without looking at Voldemort. Voldemort didn't answer. He just squeezed Harry's shoulder and left the room silently.

Once he was out of the room, Voldemort closed the door and leant back against it with a sigh. "God damn it," he cursed softly, his fists clenching at his side. He couldn't compete with the ghost of himself, he couldn't. But he couldn't make himself stay away from Harry either.

Harry stayed in the room until he was sure Voldemort was gone. Only then did he make his way to the dining room. He didn't speak to anyone, but he nodded or shook his head when someone asked him a question, which was a big improvement to a fortnight ago when he would only burst into tears. He even smiled once or twice when Sirius made a joke.

Voldemort watched him with a fond smile. Harry may never love him, he thought, but that didn't mean he couldn't love Harry. Well, he could be a friend to Harry at the least.

_XXX_

January 30th 1996.

Voldemort was rather pleased with himself. He watched as Fenrir Greyback led the werewolves into the ballroom of Malfoy Manor. The ballroom was where the Death Eaters held their meetings. The wolves sat around the edges of the rooms, in human form and shirtless, and eyed the masked men and woman with obvious hunger.

"We didn't catch much last night," Fenrir said in explanation and Remus shuddered. Remus and Sirius were standing at the front of the room, beside Voldemort's throne. Lucius stood to the throne's right. Voldemort was walking towards the door, nodded at Fenrir and shook his hand. He looked out into the hallway for a moment before realizing that Harry obviously wouldn't be joining them again, despite being invited, and slammed the door.

He dropped into his throne, gave a smug smile and welcomed the werewolves.

As everyone filled out of the room, Severus Snape was the one who hurried the most. He flooed back to his quarters at Hogwarts and then into Albus' office.

"Headmaster," he greeted as he took a seat. Dumbledore nodded and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "The werewolves have joined the Dark Lord," he said quickly, getting straight to the point.

"That is unfortunate." Dumbledore murmured. "Anything else?"

Severus remembered the presence of Sirius Grey – who was really the escaped criminal Sirius Black – and Remus Lupin. He considered telling Dumbledore, before remembering that this was the man who had condemned Lily's innocent son to Azkaban, and then later kidnapped and tried to kill the same boy. This man was the reason Draco had been so out of sorts lately.

"No, nothing else, Headmaster." Severus said eventually.

"Very well, you may leave." Severus walked slowly from the room, hands clenched but hidden beneath the sleeves of his robes, and he ignored the headmaster's offer of lemon drops.

_XXX_

January 30th 1996. Same time.

The moon had been full the three nights before. Now it hung in the air, merely a silver slither of its former self and Harry frowned as he watched it. He almost felt a kinship between him and the moon. Once upon a time, they had been full, complete. Now there was barely any of themselves left. Just a tiny strip of what they used to be, a shell almost empty, hanging desolately surrounded by black, despairing darkness. Harry sighed and leant back against the trunk of the tree he had been standing under. He allowed himself to sink to the ground, his legs tucked up against his chest.

It was a warm night, especially for late winter and Harry was only wearing a shirt and trousers. There was no coat, no robe, gloves or scarf, but he didn't feel what little chill there was in the air. Lately he found it hard to feel anything but fear and guilt.

The overwhelming sense of desperation sometimes flooded his very being, but it was a little easier to claw his way out of that black hole when Voldemort was around. It was cruel and unfair, because Harry did know and understand that Voldemort cared for him. But it hurt and Harry just needed someone, anyone, who could remind him of Tom. At least for a while. Everyone kept telling him that it would grow easier in time; Harry didn't particularly believe them because it didn't feel like he would ever get better. He would always love and miss and grieve for Tom, but he hoped he wouldn't always wake up and wish he could die. He could not bear to live every day for the rest of his life feeling such hopeless.

Malfoy Manor had wonderful gardens, and each time Voldemort had a Death Eater meeting Harry chose to wonder the gardens instead of see Voldemort behaving like himself and not Tom.

He was sitting by the tree still, watching a small flock of albino peacocks wander past, when someone came up behind him. He didn't so much hear them as he did feel them breathing over him. He tensed but the person merely sat down on the ground, on the other side of the tree so they were back to back.

"It gets easier you know." He said. It was a he, Harry realized, and their voice was deep and gravely, like he had smoked too many cigarettes in his life. Still, there was something attractive about the voice and it made Harry smile just hearing it. It was filled with power, and Harry thought that if the voice told him to climb the tree and jump out of it, he probably would. It just seemed a good idea to listen to what the voice told him; it had nothing to do with hoping the fall might kill him, honest.

"What gets easier?" Harry answered quietly, body tensed. He just knew they were talking about Tom.

"Grief doesn't last forever, Pup."

"How would you know!" Harry screamed. He turned around, getting to his knees and glaring at the man that still leant calmly against the tree trunk. His legs were stretched out in front of him, covered by a pair of well-worn blue jeans, and he was shirtless. He turned his head, and flicked back his shoulder length silver hair. He looked to be in his late forties, but Harry realized he was probably much older. After all, werewolves aged slower than humans.

He gave Harry a soft, sad smile. "I've lost my fair share of pack mates, Puppy." He sounded almost patronizing and it made Harry bristle. The stranger gave a bark of laughter. "Now don't be like that," he said as Harry went for his wand. "I'm just saying. It ain't the end of the world, you'll meet someone new and you'll make a little space for this old lover of yours so you won't ever forget him. But it'd be such a waste, especially for a pretty guy like you, to spend the rest of your life hoping he'll come back to you." His gray eyes twinkled as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk.

"He won't come back."

"And why is that?" The man asked, standing up and moving to lean over Harry.

Harry stood too. "He's dead." The man was lucky to have extra sensitive hearing, or he would have missed what Harry said.

"Exactly."

He was walking away by the time Harry managed to respond. "And what's that supposed to mean?" He had chased after the elder man and grabbed hold of his lightly muscled arm.

"That you're alive and he is dead, Pup. You should go on living and leave the dead alone. He has no use for you where he is. And you should no longer have use for him. Callous, but true. Life is for the living, kid; you may as well put the others out of their misery and off yourself at this rate." Harry let go off his arm and sniffled softly.

"Oh," was all he said in reply. He stared at the ground; thinking over the other mans words and winced at the thought of suicide. The idea that someone could be feeling like him, because of his actions, made him ill. He wouldn't make anyone feel as horrid as he was feeling over Tom; he wouldn't.

"Name's Fenrir Greyback by the way." He gave a roguish grin, exposing most of his teeth and turned to walk away again. He called over his shoulder as he left the garden, shouting to be heard, "and you're welcome."

"Thanks," Harry whispered after him. He was sure Fenrir could hear him; werewolves had great hearing.

**XXX**

Please review and thank you for reading. There are 4 chapters left; 19 in total (16: Friend Or Foe; 17: The Takeover; 18: Battle For Hogwarts; 19: Retribution.)

On another note, I really don't like THE LAMBS! But since most of my reviewers do, I'll continue it and see if I think it gets better. If not, then I might either re-write it or delete it and do SOUL SEEKER instead. But, I'll give it a few more chapters, since I went to the effort of planning it out until the end.


	16. Friend Or Foe

a href"k155-me

Hey all. Thanks for sticking with me so far; I would also like to thank those who reviewed! I rather hope to reach 400 reviews by the time I finish INDELIBLE, at chapter 19, but I doubt it'll happen. Though, we'll see.

**Words: **4,644

**Chapter 16**

**Friend Or Foe**

February 14th 1996.

It had been almost two weeks since Fenrir had attempted to talk some sense into Harry. The werewolves had been at Malfoy Manor for the same length of time. Harry spent most of his free time sitting outside in the gardens, his back against that tree trunk, with Fenrir sitting on the other side of the tree. They didn't always talk, and sometimes Fenrir couldn't make it because he had a meeting, but Harry always felt better after the hour spent with the werewolf.

The only werewolf he had ever known had been Remus, and he hadn't even known Remus that long. Remus may have been his godfather's mate, but he wasn't that close to the man. Sure he and Draco had chosen Remus to live with them at Hogwarts for their 5th year, for the short few months he was there, but he didn't _know_ Remus as well as he would have liked. Harry had always thought that werewolves, if they existed, would be cruel temperamental creatures, full of anger and hatred. But Fenrir was surprisingly nice.

Harry had watched Fenrir eat someone alive the week before. It had been a week after the full moon, and Fenrir was completely human in appearance. Somehow, Harry hadn't even known it was possible, somehow Fenrir had made his teeth and claw elongate, and he had gorged himself on the traitor.

Most of the other werewolves enjoyed the spectacle; some turned away out of hunger or jealousy, and only Remus was disgusted. Sirius and the Death Eaters tried not to wince, less Voldemort notice their discomfort. Voldemort and Bellatrix seemed to enjoy the man's death; they had smirked and laughed as Fenrir ate. Harry wasn't bothered either way. He didn't look away from the death, but he didn't pay that much attention to it either, instead he watched Fenrir. It was the only meeting Harry had gone to and it was only because Sirius begged him to go see what Greyback was really like.

Fenrir had looked elated. Harry sighed, and leant back against the tree, his knees pressed against his chest and he smiled before burying his head in his arms. He remembered that Fenrir had smiled at him, before going back to his meal, and Harry remembered being happy for Fenrir. It had been quite a while since Harry had seen someone truly that happy.

"Hello Pup," Fenrir whispered as he sat down on the ground. His back was pressed to the trunk of the tree, closer to Harry then he usually sat. "Why do you weep?" He could smell the salt of the boy's tears, and it worried him.

Fenrir had bitten Remus, and despite the fact that they hated and were ashamed of each other they were still pack, and Remus considered this boy his cub. It was hard for Fenrir to ignore the distress of a member of his pack: especially a pack mate he had grown fond of over the last fortnight.

Harry wasn't stupid. He understood that he hardly _knew_ Fenrir, no more than he knew Remus, but he still felt safe. Sirius thought he was an idiot, but Remus had tried to explain about Harry being considered pack. Harry really hadn't been in the mood to listen though, so he really hadn't taken much in, and Remus just settled for making Harry promise not to be alone with Fenrir on the full moon. Fenrir had later explained about packs and how Harry was a part of his. The other werewolves would protect him as he was considered a cub of their Alpha, but they wouldn't go out of their way to socialize with him because he wasn't a werewolf.

It made sense to Harry; if he wanted to dwell on it he'd even say he understood where they were coming from. It was a bit like Purebloods really. They tolerated half-bloods because of their pureblood parent, but pretended not to know the Muggle parent existed even if they were standing side by side.

Harry's hand clenched around the card. It was a white Muggle thing, with hearts and flowers painted over the front above a passage in fancy black text, and a plain white back. It was folded in half but Fenrir couldn't see the inside. Harry handed it to him and he read it out loud.

"Roses are pretty but violets are corny. And thinking about you makes me feel," he opened the card up and cracked a small smile. "Nice. Happy valentines, brother. I miss you. Love, Draco."

Harry let out a soft sob, and holds his hand out. Fenrir hands the card back to him with a frown but didn't say anything.

"Why does this make you weep?" He asked after a few minutes of silence when Harry had managed to compose himself.

"It's just something stupid. Don't worry about it Fenrir." He stood up and brushed down his trousers. He had grass stains on the arse of his pale blue jeans, but he didn't care all that much. Fenrir laughed deeply and reached out to swat him on the backside, trying to brush off the pieces of grass that clung to the fabric. Harry gave an 'eap' and jumped out of reach. It made Fenrir laugh harder.

Voldemort watched them from the entrance to the gardens and frowned. He knew Fenrir wouldn't make a move to mate with anyone who wasn't a wolf, and certainly not with a cub of his pack. Harry was safe from Fenrir's advances, but that didn't mean Voldemort was happy that someone else was touching his Harry, or being confided in by his Harry, while he was ignored.

Harry had been having less and less nightmares as the past two weeks progressed, but Voldemort still let himself into Harry's room and made sure to comfort the child when needed. Harry still took comfort in the man's presence, but he had stopped calling him Tom. Now he merely addressed him as Amnon, which meant 'faithful'. Voldemort had taken the bull by the horns one night and asked Harry why he had chosen that name, but Harry had merely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Voldemort's jaw before lying back down and going to sleep.

Voldemort moved out of the way as Harry entered Malfoy Manor. "Hey Amnon," he said softly and gave Voldemort a soft smile.

"What's that?" He took the card from Harry. "A valentines? From Draco." Harry opened his mouth to answer, but instead of words, a choking sob came out. He collapsed forward and Voldemort dropped the card and reached out to catch Harry before he hit the floor. "What's the matter?"

They sat together on the floor, Harry half in Voldemort's lap after being caught, and Voldemort rocked him lightly as he cried.

"No one loves me." He was crying so hard Voldemort actually needed a few minutes to work out what had been said.

"Draco loves you, he said as much."

"But as a brother." Harry gave a hiccup, before taking several deep breaths. "He doesn't love me like Tom did." Voldemort's entire body stiffened as Harry spoke. "Tom died because he loved me, and my parents died because they love me, and Draco'll probably die too, and then no one will love me and I'll be all alone. And Sirius loves me, but he'll love his mate more, and Remus doesn't love me because I like Fenrir, but Fenrir doesn't love me either and I'll be all alone." He dissolved into harsh cries again. His framed was wracked with sobs, trembling and shaking as he had trouble breathing through his tears.

"I love you." Voldemort said suddenly. His voice was louder than he had expected it to be, and the silence after his words was even louder still. Harry stopped crying, blinked and wiped his tears away. He stared at Voldemort, his mouth half open, and Voldemort stared back stone faced.

"What?"

"I said I love you. I love you as Tom loved you, and he knew it. I don't love you because Tom was once a part of me, Harry; I love you because you are you. You are kind, and loving, and funny, smart, brave and sweet, and caring, trusting and absolutely delectable." He raised one hand and brushed Harry's fringe away from the boy's forehead. Voldemort pressed a kiss to the scar and smiled sadly. "I have loved you longer than I have known I loved you, and I will likely love you always, and you are the only person I have ever loved. I will love you when you're older, or taller; when you cry less, if you cry more; I will love you if you hate me, or when I hate you; I will love you even if you never love me back. So don't you dare believe no one loves you Harry. We all love you very much, just in different ways." He pushed Harry off of his lap and stood up.

Harry remained sitting on the floor. He reached out to grab the valentine's card and he sniffled lightly.

"I'm not Tom, Harry. I am Lord Voldemort, I am a completely different person than the part of my soul you knew and loved. And I apologize for not being who you need me to be, but I'm not him. But I still love you." He leant down to catch Harry's lips in a soft kiss. "And I always will." He walked away then, and Harry was too shocked to do anything other than stare after him.

Voldemort probably would have been outraged to know that Fenrir had heard and watched the entire exchange. The werewolf said nothing; he walked to Harry and helped the boy to his feet.

"I love you too, my cub," he whispered as he led the child to his rooms. Once Harry was tucked into bed, Fenrir propped the card up on the bedside table, and left a note reminding Harry to write and thank Draco, before he left.

_XXX_

February 21st 1996.

Harry spent a lot of the next week avoiding Voldemort. If he saw Voldemort in the hallways he never did anything as hurtful as turn and walk the other way. Instead he quietly said "hello Amnon" and started walking faster. He didn't actively seek Voldemort out, not that he did that much since Tom died anyway, and he no longer allowed Voldemort to come into his room at night.

Voldemort accepted Harry's actions as the risk he paid for telling Harry his feelings. He wasn't happy that he had frightened Harry away, but he was glad to have shared how he felt. It was like a weight had lifted off of his chest and he could breath probably after months of being labored. A pain – one of longing and hope – he hadn't noticed he had was finally gone, but it was replaced by the stinging pain of rejection and loss.

Fortunately Voldemort's confession had the result of stopping Harry's nightmares. The brunette no longer dreamed of Tom's death or Dumbledore's part in it. Macbeth-style ghosts and the manifestations of his own guilt had ceased to haunt him. This past week had given Harry the best nights sleep than any of the other weeks this year. He had Voldemort's confession to thank for it.

Voldemort loved him.

And that caused a whole new set of problems.

Someone loved him; someone still loved him after he had caused the death of Tom and so many others. So he obviously wasn't unloveable, nor was he despise-able. He couldn't be completely guilty or Voldemort would hate him for destroying the Horcruxes. But Voldemort loved him. _Him_, Harry Potter. He knew he loved Tom, but did he love Voldemort as well? Could he love both of them? If he didn't love Voldemort would he be strong enough to break someone else's heart? If he couldn't, would he be cruel enough to lie about loving Voldemort so he wouldn't break the man's heart?

Thinking made Harry's head hurt. In the end, Harry had decided to draw up a list. There were two columns, and the headings were: 'similarities' and 'differences'.

Under the 'similarities' heading Harry had wrote: share the same soul; love me; Dark Lord; hates Mudbloods and blood traitors; likes to wear black; was in Slytherin; cause Voldemort's temporary defeat and Tom's death.

In the 'differences' column, there was: Voldemort is older; Tom died; Tom wasn't ever really a person; Voldemort has Death Eaters; Voldemort has tried to kill me; Voldemort killed my parents; Tom killed Ginny and got me sent to Azkaban; Tom stayed with me in Azkaban; Voldemort got me out of Azkaban; Voldemort takes care of me even though I kept calling him Tom; Amnon has remained faithful; Amnon will love me because he isn't dead; Amnon thinks I don't love him; Tom knew I loved him; Amnon can make more Horcruxes so he won't ever have to leave me; Thinking about Tom makes me sad; Amnon can make me happy.

The list didn't contain the finer points of either man but it helped Harry understand that they weren't the same person. They were similar, yes, but they were infinitely different at the same time. Maybe he still didn't love Voldemort, but Harry knew he wouldn't keep pretending that Voldemort and Tom were one in the same. If he was going to take comfort from Voldemort, then he would no longer pretend that it was Tom. He wouldn't wish for Tom anymore. Fenrir had been right: Tom was gone and he would never come back. He had to move on.

Harry took a deep breath and set down the list. "Tempus," he whispered.

02:54am.

Harry smiled to himself, hoping that it wasn't too late for what he had in mind. He climbed out of his bed, put away his quill and ink well and made for the door. He silently padded down the corridor to Voldemort's room. Tom found it rather strange that Voldemort would want them on the same floor as himself, when there were many empty rooms in Malfoy Manor further away, where Voldemort wouldn't have to listen to them have sex. Harry winced as he thought about how much it would have bothered Voldemort to remain close to Harry – to someone in love with someone else.

He knocked on Voldemort's door, but there was no answer. So he turned the handle, and the door opened. The wards sensed that he wasn't a threat and let Harry through. Voldemort's eyes slowly opened as the bed dipped in front of him. He met Harry's emerald orbs as the boy carefully wormed his way between Voldemort's arms, so they were pressed chest to chest. Voldemort allowed his eyes to flutter closed again, a soft sigh escaping his lips. This was the first time Harry had ever come to him.

"Goodnight Voldemort." Harry whispered, his arms wrapping around Voldemort's neck and shoulders. Voldemort allowed a soft smile.

That was the first time Harry had addressed him by his true name in the dark.

_XXX_

March 2nd 1996.

Rubeus Hagrid was an easily recognizable fellow. He was well above four-heads taller than anyone else he knew, and he had quite a lot more facial hair – except for Dumbledore, of course. The man's mother had been a giantess, and when he was only twelve he had been able to lift his Muggle father with one hand and place him on top of the dresser. The fact that his father was a Muggle and his mother a giant made Hagrid a Mudblood, and it made him an outcast. He had got on famously well with Madame Maxime from Beauxbatons during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but she eventually had to go back to her own school.

That was why he had been happy enough to take Dumbledore's assignment with smiles and thanks, while the others had shifted in their chairs uneasily. He was being given the opportunity to meet some of his own kind, others like him. He felt it was a blessing, and he gratefully thanked Albus for the chance.

The Order was now meeting at one of Dumbledore's ancestral homes. His father, of course, being a Pureblood, meant he had many homes to inherit but never use.

The giant's colony, in the German Black Forest, wasn't a place many would go willingly. A few tourists and backpackers stumbled upon the colony by accident on occasion, but they never went back to tell anyone what they saw. Mainly, because they never went back.

When Hagrid arrived, two male giants were having a wrestling match of sorts. Hagrid had never really realized how much smaller he was as a half-blood, his mother had left when he was too young to remember her. He suddenly realized now. The two wrestling were almost as tall as some of the towers at Hogwarts. It was a terrifying sight. One giant picked the other clean off the floor and threw him at a tree. The tree buckled, and folded to the ground under the giant's weight. The female giantess, standing at the sidelines, suddenly through herself at the winner, and the two of them disappeared into the tree line.

Hagrid waited until the loser had gone away to lick his wounds before he cleared his throat. "'Eh, hello all. Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry asked me to ask ye lot whether ye'd want to fight against You-Know-Who?"

One of the giants had to carry Hagrid back to the nearest apparition point after they had finished giving him their answer. It took several hours for Hagrid to regain consciousness, and then several potions and healing spells before he could walk around unaided. The giants had given Dumbledore a definite 'no'! Rudolphus Lestrange made his way home soon after Hagrid woke up and left.

_XXX_

March 2nd 1996. Same time.

Severus Snape was a man happy enough to straddle both sides of the fence. He was neither truly light, nor was he completely dark. At first he had been pressured into joining the Death Eaters, until he had realized what opportunities it presented to him. If he were to become a Death Eater he would no longer have reason to fear his father; Voldemort had many raids on people his followers disliked, so long as they were expandable. His father was a Muggle, a useless as they came. He also realized that it might mean he could protect Lily. His beautiful, delightful Lily Evans. When she had married James Potter he had been distraught, but he had known it was coming and he was even gladder to have joined Voldemort's forces because it meant that Lily would need twice the protection as before, because now she was a Potter as well as a Mudblood.

When Voldemort had killed the person Severus had begged him to spare he had been outraged. He had shared the half-heard prophecy with Voldemort in the hopes of gaining more favor with the Dark Lord, to better protect Lily, but ultimately it had led to Voldemort hunting down the child of the woman he loved.

After Lily's death he had sworn to protect Harry, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care for the boy. The child had caused Lily's death as far as he was concerned, but mostly he had hated the boy because of his striking resemblance to James Potter.

But that was the same boy who had wormed his way beneath Draco's cool façade, the same boy that Lucius Malfoy had been so desperate to free from Azkaban, the same boy – Lily's boy – that had been kidnapped and subjected to a agonizing Dark ritual by Dumbledore in the name of stopping Voldemort. In light of that, defeating Voldemort didn't seem so important any more.

However Severus was neither foolish enough, nor simply inclined, to come out and say that to Dumbledore's face. So here he was somewhere in the bloody Alps, surrounded by vampires as their Prince and leader took his god-forsaken time getting to the clearing Severus had been captured in. His arms were pinned behind his back by two pure-vampires, while his wand was being twirled by an upstart of a turned-vampire who Severus was sure used to be in his Hufflepuff potions class a few years back. He was being pressed uncomfortably against a tree while he was searched for weapons. All in the aid of defeating Voldemort.

A tall vampire with snow-white hair and garnet colored eyes walked into the clearing, followed by four other pure-vampires. He was so pale that the blues of his veins were easy enough to trace. Despite the coloring of his hair he only looked twenty-five or so. The albino smiled, baring his eyeteeth as his eyes raked over Severus' form.

"Who have ve here?" He drawled, his accent eastern European.

A fifth figure entered the clearing, and Severus was able to recognize him by his white-blond hair.

"Ah, Lucius," he gasped as the vampire holding his arm, twisted it. "I see I am no longer needed here. If you'll excuse me." He tried to push away from the tree but the vampires didn't let him budge.

"If you don't mind." Lucius drawled. The Prince waved his hand and the vampires backed away from Severus. The dark haired man rubbed his sore arms before holding his hand out for his wand. He nodded at Severus and the vampire Prince. As he was about to apparate away, Lucius spoke. "You'll have to take sides soon Severus."

"I already have, my friend." He disappeared with a pop, not having told Lucius whose side he had chosen exactly.

_XXX_

March 3rd 1996.

The vampires had needed a full day to travel to Malfoy Manor. They could hardly apparate in one trip, as it was too tiring, and they needed a license for long distance Portkeys. Having so many of them leave at once, to the same destination, would raise so many questions, so instead they ran through various cities within one country, before resting, and apparating over the boarder to avoid immigration control, and running from that boarder to the next. Vampire could run very fast, without tiring, unlike apparation. They could learn it, but it came easier to turned vampires than to the purebloods, as most turned vampires had been witch or wizard at one point. They were able to run through each country in about four hours.

When they arrived at Malfoy Manor, they immediately searched out Lord Voldemort. Lucius had arrived home ahead of them, and had the house elves prepare the dungeons and the lower level of the Manor for the vampire guests.

As they filtered out of the ballroom, many of them were drawn to the gardens. The sun was high in the sky, so the turned vampires retreated to the dungeons, but the purebloods were neither exhausted nor burnt by the suns rays. The Prince led them towards a stone bench that sat before a large lake. The center of the lake was actually a small island of land, upon which grew a single Whomping Willow. Around the island, swans and tropical fish swam. The occasional albino peacock fluttered to the edge of the water, wetting its feathers, before retreating back to dry land.

The vampires watched silently for a moment, before one took a deep breath and let out a growl. "Werewolf," he snarled, eyes narrowed.

The others starting breathing deeply, looking around frantically. Only the Prince remained watching the lake and island. On the island, a boy of about fourteen or fifteen watched them expressionlessly as they ran around the bench, sniffing at it and hissing to themselves. The Prince raised a hand in greeting. Harry nodded once, and stepped back, once again hidden by the swaying branches of the Whomping Willow.

"Strange that it has not attacked him," the vampire muttered.

"Attacked who?" A tall, dark haired man asked. He sat down on the bench and the other vampires shifted away from him, sniffing the air around him. "Who are you all and why are you sniffing my bench?"

"Who are you?" One of the others asked.

"Sirius Black, sometimes Sirius Grey, but never Sirius White!" He grinned. He held his hand out.

"I am Alvis Yacob, Prince of the Vladislav vampires." The albino reached out to shake Sirius' outstretched hand, but another vampire slapped the Wizards hand away.

He hissed, "werewolf!"

"I'm not a werewolf," he said. He sat calmly in front of the vampires, not even reaching for his wand. "I'm a werewolf's mate." He said it proudly, but the vampires obviously thought very poorly of the idea as they all started hissing and snarling again.

"I'm a werewolf!" Remus said, coming up behind his mate and leaning protectively over Sirius. "Got a problem with that?"

"So what if we do?" A vampire by the name of Danek snarled.

"Silence," Alvis commanded, but more werewolves had appeared and they weren't inclined to listen to the orders of a blood-sucking leech. Instead, Fenrir's beta launched himself at the vampire who had slapped Sirius' hand away earlier. They all eventually took part in the fisticuffs with the exception of Remus, Sirius and Alvis. Fenrir was absent when the fight started. He arrived ten minutes into the brawl, and neither he nor Alvis could get their clan/pack to stop fighting. Each side feared that if they stopped, the other side would take advantage and kill them.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" A voice roared. Everyone froze and looked up. Voldemort, Lucius, and a few others stood beside Fenrir and Alvis, but none of them had been the one to speak. They looked in the other direction. Floating himself towards them from the island in the middle of the lake was Harry Potter, and he looked pissed. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"I only came here to think, like I always do, and they-" Sirius let himself trail off as Harry's glare fixed itself on him. He gulped and backed away slightly. Each person flinched as Harry's gaze met theirs, except Voldemort.

"Did none of you think to stop them?" The Death Eaters and the pack leaders remained silent, lowering their eyes to the ground. "Are you all stupid?" He asked those who had been fighting. "Do you all want to die, is that it?"

They all frantically shook their heads. They separated themselves out, so werewolves were standing with werewolves, and the vampires only stood beside other vampires. Alvis moved to stand before his clan, while Fenrir paced in front of his pack.

"You're doing it even now," Harry said sadly, though he was still angry. "Fighting amongst yourselves, segregating yourselves. It's pathetic and petty. And it will get you killed. You are allies. You all allied yourselves to Lord Voldemort and agreed to fight against Albus Dumbledore with Lord Voldemort. That means you must fight with each other not against each other. What do you think will happen if you're caught between a team full of Aurors, all working in sync, and the only person you have to help you won't because you spent the last god knows how long trying to kill him for being different to you? You'll die! That's what. You should stop being foes, and start at least trying to be friends." He spared them all one last glare.

"Fuck sake," he snarled, and turned to walk away. "Stupid, fucking idiots." He muttered as he left them all there, staring after him.

"Well, he's certainly feeling more like his old self." Sirius mused out loud. Voldemort met his eyes and smirked. Yes, Harry was undoubtedly gaining his bite back, and Voldemort could have been prouder of him than he was right then.

Harry was going to be just fine.

**XXX**

I hope you enjoyed. See, Harry couldn't possibly be depressed forever. He's practically his old, temperamental self again.


	17. The Takeover

Whoo hoo – two more chapters to go

Whoo hoo – two more chapters to go.

I'm starting a full length Narnia fiction. I'll put the summary at the bottom of this chapter. So if anyone likes Narnia as much as I do, go along and check it out (already posted). I promise it's going to be 'different' to any thing else you might have read.

**Words: **5,273

**Chapter 17**

**The Takeover**

May 5th 1996.

During the two months that passed, Voldemort's forces put quite a few of their plans into motion. This mostly consisted of forcing Bills through the Wizengamot to outlaw previous Acts and Regulations. Two of which were the 'Werewolf Register' and the 'Werewolf Code of Conduct'. Amendments were made to the 'Muggle Protection Act'; when Arthur Weasley had tried to protest these changes he was fired from his position as the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Another rule the Wizengamot was forced to change was the 'Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans'. This last development pleased the Centaurs enough that, when Voldemort sent a representative to them, they agreed not to attack anyone who entered their forest. But, still, they didn't say they would help either.

It was rather easy for Voldemort to achieve the changes he wanted. Most of the members of the Wizengamot were from old Pureblooded families, or were half bloods raised with the Pureblood traditions. It was made even easier for Voldemort when one considered the fact that most of the Purebloods sitting in the Wizengamot were also Death Eaters. Some of them may not have agreed with giving Werewolves, and Centaurs and Vampires back their rights, but they didn't have a choice. They had sworn to obey and serve their Lord.

At present Cornelius Fudge was still Minister for Magic. His undersecretary, Delores Umbridge, was currently preoccupied at Hogwarts acting as the Defense professor so she was out of the way.

If any of the ordinary members of the Wizarding world were unhappy with the changes they were relatively certain that Fudge was to blame. Most were none to happy with Umbridge either; especially considering what some of their children were writing home to complain about.

Voldemort was more than happy to have Fudge blamed for everything, of course. It wasn't like it mattered. Fudge wouldn't stay in Office much longer if things went to plan.

"Come on then," someone called. Lord Voldemort turned to face that person and allowed a small smile to cross his face. Harry Potter had been much happier these past two months, than the two months before that since Tom was killed. Yes, Harry did grieve at times, and at other times he cried himself to sleep, but he was better. Recovery was a long and slow process, but Harry was definitely on track. Voldemort was infinitely glad for it.

"Well," he drawled, his eyes raking over Harry's form. "Don't you look well, Potter?"

"That's Lord Indelible to you." Harry rolled his eyes and scowled at Voldemort's use of his surname.

"I believe you are right. It is time for those fools to see you for how you truly are."

Voldemort came towards him, slowly, his lips pulled up into a smirk. Harry spoke, eyeing the other man in a confused manner. "Indelible?"

Voldemort chuckled softly. "A Lord. Above them in every way: magnificent and respected. Dangerous, destructive-"

"Diminutive," a third voice cut in. "Are you sure you won't take a growth potion of some sort?" Harry turned his head to scowl at Fenrir. For the past week Fenrir had claimed to be bored shitless; so he passed the time by picking holes in Harry. First Harry was too skinny, then he was getting love handles – accompanied by Fenrir pinching his hips a lot – then he was a little too tall, but now he was apparently to short.

"How dare you admonish me, vermin?"**1** Harry hissed, his eyes narrowed as his hand went for his wand. Fenrir gave a loud full-bellied laugh as the corners of Harry's mouth turned up. They both watched Voldemort for a moment out of the corner of their eyes.

"I do not sound like that!" The Dark Lord said eventually. Harry rolled his eyes with a soft smile.

"No, course not." He said softly, reaching out to pat Voldemort consolingly on the arm. "Shall we leave then?" Harry ran his hands down his sides slowly, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. He was wearing a long black robe that was buttoned down his chest, but flapped open below his ribs. It exposed the Slytherin green robe he wore beneath it, which fluttered lightly around his legs as he walked. He pulled up the hood. It was so large it hung down over his eyes, stopping just above his mouth. "Well, who needs a mask?" He said with a laugh before casting a spell that would allow him to see through the fabric. He placed a thin, black mask over his face, beneath the hood. His mouth was still exposed, and he was smirking.

Both Voldemort and Fenrir went without masks, but they couldn't afford for anyone to accidentally see Harry's scar, or notice that it was Dorian Grey. Voldemort was dressed similar to Harry, except the green robes were much darker, almost black in color, but they had a neat silver hemming. Fenrir was only wearing a pair of worn blue jeans.

"I won't mind getting them messy." He said as they left the room. "Less clothes to wash this way," he said.

Harry didn't want to think about why he might be getting dirty. He shook his head and put it out of his mind. Lucius met them in the atrium of Malfoy Manor. His wife and son were with him, along with some other members of the Inner Circle. They all bowed before Voldemort and Indelible.

Harry nodded at Fenrir and the man left the room at a brisk jog. He met up with the other werewolves and made their way into London via Portkey. They arrived on a street with several shabby offices, a pub and a wall covered with graffiti. A red telephone box stood beside the wall. Fenrir and his wolves made their way over, and one by one climbed inside until they were crushed together, hardly able to breathe.

Fenrir dialed 62442, which spelt out m-a-g-i-c. As soon as he dialed the last number, the telephone box seemed to magically expand without getting any larger from the outside. The werewolves breathed a sigh of relief. Fenrir waited for the voice to materialize beside him.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your purpose."

"Werewolves." Fenrir grunted.

Due to the modifications to the 'Werewolf Code of Conduct', they were no longer required to give reasons for wanting to go somewhere within the Wizarding World. That made things easy for them because it meant they didn't have to say "werewolves, here to help Voldemort kill you all", because that might have been a bit awkward.

"Please," the female voice continued. A small ping noise sounded and a handful of metal badges popped out of the phone. "Have a nice day and fix the specially modified silver badges to the front of your robes."

The phone box started to shake lightly, before it sank into the ground. They traveled down for a minute or so before the box came to a halt. The door slid open and Fenrir was the first to step out, right into the Atrium of the Ministry.

He looked left and right as the others stepped out of the box behind him. Gilded fireplaces lined both walls of the Atrium. The left hand side fireplaces were used to arrive there, while the right hand side was used to depart through. In the middle of the Atrium stood the Fountain of Magical Brethren; though most of the statues looked as if they hated one another. The goblin in particular was shooting everyone rather nasty glares. At the end of the hall was a set of golden gates with a security booth. Once they had past those gates, they had to walk down one more corridor before they came upon a row of lifts that would lead them anywhere within the Ministry except the Tenth level.

The werewolves walked towards the security booth. A Wizard by the name of Eric Munch held out his hand and said "wands, please?"

Fenrir pointed to his badge, which was pinned to the crotch of his jeans, and blatantly said 'werewolf'. Munch blushed slightly at having to stare at this man's genital area, and then he paled as he read the words on the badge.

"Go through." He sat as far back in his chair as possible as the werewolves trailed past him. When Fenrir arrived in front of the lifts, he stood still and waited. Even though the lift came and went several times, he did not get in.

Five minutes later the fireplaces in the Ministry flared to life and several Death Eaters flooded in from various fireplaces in Malfoy Manor. The Death Eaters already within the Ministry had been waiting in the Wizengamot Courtroom on the Tenth floor. As quickly as they could, once the felt their Marks burn, they ran down the stairs that led to Level Nine, right beside the door to the Department of Mysteries.

There was nothing on the Ninth Floor to takeover, so those Death Eaters found the nearest lift and met the others in the Atrium, on floor Eight. Voldemort and Indelible were the last ones to floo over. The others waited for Voldemort before they began to pile into the various lifts that had stopped on that floor. Each of them was suddenly masked, their identities hidden. Small paper airplanes drifted out between them, heading to their destinations. But the Death Eaters set them on fire, just in case any of them contained a warning.

Four Death Eaters got off on Level Seven: Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Ten left when the lift arrived at the Department of Magical Transportation on Level Six.

Level Five was the Department of International Magical Cooperation; another large group of Death Eaters headed there.

Most of the Werewolves chose to get off on Level Four. This was the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and many of those creatures had a bone to pick with the Wizards in charge.

A token handful left when they arrived at Level Three. There wasn't likely to be much opposition from the Witches and Wizards in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

Level Two was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and nearly everyone that was left got off here. Voldemort, Indelible, Lucius and one other masked man remained in the lift.

They carried on going down until they arrived at Level One. The doors pinged open and the four men stepped out of the life. Level One was a relatively unknown sector of the Ministry, not many people knew what was actually on this level, unless they were very important or very close to the Minister. Lucius Malfoy was one of the very few who knew for certain that this was where the offices of the undersecretary, the junior assistant and the Minister for Magic were hidden. There was an office higher up in the Ministry, which they all shared, but it was only for show. The entirety of the important Ministry matters where taken care of down here.

Lucius had the security clearance built into his wand, so all he had to do was tap the elevator doors as the lift moved down from Level Two to One, and none of the Aurors would be alerted to a trespass.

Lucius knocked lightly on one of the three doors that were enclosed in the dimly lit corridor. It creaked open slowly and a soft "enter" was heard. Junior Assistant Percy Weasley held the door open as Lucius entered the room followed by the masked man. Voldemort and Indelible entered, hidden beneath the Disillusionment Charm and Percy was none the wiser. Percy opened a door in the wall, which led them into the Ministers office. The door outside in the corridor only led to a broom closer.

Harry thought it was a rather good idea for Voldemort to insist Lucius show them the way. He would have been knocking on the broom closet door all day if it weren't for the presence of the blond man.

The moment the door closed behind them, the masked man had his wand to Percy's neck. With a quick Cutting Curse, Percy was dead, his blood pooling around him on the floor. Cornelius Fudge looked at Lucius with wide eyes.

"What is the meaning of this?" He shouted, not having the sense to beg for his life. Instead he stood from his chair, his hands slayed on the desk, as he attempted to intimidate Lucius.

"Well, that depends on what you mean by 'this'?" Harry said allowing the Disillusionment Charm to disintegrate. "If you mean that," he pointed at Percy, "well, that was nothing personal. If you meant us being here to kill you, well, again, nothing personal but you are being rather counter productive to our goals and ideas. You have to go. But, no," Harry frowned, pulling off his mask and pushing his hood back.

He might have taken the potion to make him look like Marvolo – Voldemort's metamorphous alter ego – but he still looked a little like Harry Potter. Especially since he still had that pesky scar. He made sure to point the scar out to Fudge. "Maybe you mean 'this' as in that time you sent me to Azkaban for something I didn't do? But then again you do that a lot don't you?"

Fudge gave a whimper and sank back into his chair. He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Harry. Voldemort, still unseen, plucked it out of the man's hand and pocketed it.

"I really don't know the meaning of that. I always wanted to ask you, you know. Why send me to Azkaban? A twelve-year-old; innocent; no threat to you. What was the meaning of that?" He waited a second but Fudge couldn't do anything than open and close his mouth. "No answer? Oh well, it won't change the fact that you will die. I was just curious." He nodded over Fudge's head and Voldemort materialized.

"Who are you?" Fudge shouted as Voldemort cast the Imperious Curse.

"Lord Indelible," Harry said though he wasn't sure if Fudge could still hear him over Voldemort's orders.

"You will hold a full Wizengamot and Press meeting tomorrow, early in the morning." Voldemort's voice echoed through Harry's head as well as Cornelius'. The Minister was far too weak to resist the Imperious, and he had already started to nod his head in agreement. "You will announce your resignation from politics and the position of Minister. If they ask for a reason, you will tell them you have come to realize your incompetence has led to the deplorable state of our World. You will appoint Alfred Lenning as the new Minister."

The masked man pulled off his bone-white mask and nodded his head. He was fair-haired with brown eyes and had a rather pleasant face. In comparison to some of the other Death Eaters, Harry could see why this man was chosen.

"You will then tell them you are leaving the country, and going into seclusion somewhere of your choice. You will actually floo to Malfoy Manor from an untraceable position and ask for Lord Indelible."

"Yes my Lord," Fudge intoned as he nodded his head frantically.

"Get started." Voldemort hissed. He took Harry by the elbow and led the boy towards the door. Lucius followed them. "Stay with him until it's done." Alfred nodded, and sat on the edge of Fudge's desk. He cast a lazy 'Incendio' at Percy's body and wrinkled his nose at the horrid stench of burning flesh. The curse was so strong on Fudge that he didn't even notice the smell. Cornelius Fudge only knew, only thought, that he had to fulfill his Lords orders.

"**Well, that was a fun way to pass the time**." Harry thought back at Voldemort. The elder man looked rather shocked. Harry hadn't used their mental connection since Dumbledore had blocked it at Christmas, just before Tom died. Voldemort hadn't even been sure if the connection was still there; he had been too afraid to test it in case it was broken permanently.

With a smirk, that rather frightened Lucius, Voldemort replied, "I wonder how the others are fairing?"

_XXX_

May 7th 1996.

On May the 6th Cornelius Fudge had released his press statement. The general public was made aware that he had retired from politics, and that his successor was a man named Alfred Lenning. None but those who were present at the Ministry knew anything untoward had happened. Most of the people had been placed under the Imperious. Those that had fought back unrelentingly were killed quickly and their bodies were burnt. Their families were sent small cards of condolence, without a reason for the death, from the Sub-Department of Wizarding Family Services. The WFS dealt with orphaned children, abused children, issuing benefits or pensions to the families of deceased Ministry workers, etc.

It was the general practice unless one requested a post-mortem examination, but not many could afford an inquest like that. No thought anything suspicious about it. They grieved their loved ones and they blamed the state of the Wizarding World on Fudge, and thanked the gods that he would be retiring.

The survivors of the Ministry – those that had successfully hidden but were too scared to speak out – had carefully made their way to Hogwarts, by non-magical means. Dumbledore accepted them without question or hesitation. He was quick to erect extra magical protections and strengthen the existing wards.

As the adults were talking in the Great Hall, Hermione was conducting a meeting of her own. A few weeks ago she had found a house elf, quite by accident, that had once belonged to Bartemius Crouch Sr. Winky, the elf, had been fired for some mishap, but Hermione promised to find her a good pureblood family to serve if Winky helped her. Winky gave Hermione exactly what she wanted, and in return Hermione owled Cedric Diggory and asked him if he wanted a house elf. She and Cedric had become quite close after he had survived the Third Task but Ron hadn't. Not that Hermione minded much at the time, because honestly he was being a complete twat about everything!

It didn't matter much now, for Winky, as her master Amos Diggory was now hiding out at Hogwarts with his son and wife.

But Hermione still had access to the Room of Requirements. And she made very good use of it too. Together with a few others who believed in Harry's innocence, those same ones who had helped but together all of those petitions so long ago, had created a special type of Galleon. A Galleon that burnt, like the Dark Mark, when Hermione called a meeting.

At the moment, several groups of people were pouring into the Room, at different times. Each of them wanted desperately to avoid Delores Umbridge. The Weasley Twins stood at the front of the room, to the left of Hermione, while Neville and Luna stood to her right. Hermione wasn't fond of Luna, not particularly, but she was Neville's girlfriend, and she seemed to think that Harry was the 'bee's knees'.

Cedric and a few others, who were hiding out, had joined the meeting. Most of the Slytherins were there because they all knew that Harry was working with their Lord. Well, the ones whose parents were important knew; the others went because they were told to. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were spread through the room, but Hermione, the Twins and the Creevey brothers were the only Gryffindors.

Hermione cleared her throat. And she began to speak.

She explained in great detail everything Albus Dumbledore had done to Harry: from placing him with magic-hating Muggles, to sending him to Azkaban, to using him to perform a dangerous Dark ritual, to killing the person Harry loved (leaving out that it was a manifestation of Voldemort). She then vowed to do what she could to protect Harry. Most everybody in the room answered with 'I do' after Hermione had said her part, each of them vowing to help him where they could.

Cedric didn't say anything. He looked around the room with a frown before sighing. "I don't want to help the dark, but I don't think they can be that bad. After all, Voldemort kidnapped me, but he sent me back alive, for which I am grateful. If Harry had something to do with that then I want to repay him." Hermione gave a relieved smile and he grinned back.

"So, what are we called?" Cho Chang asked as she brushed her hair off of her pretty face.

"What about Harry's Army?" Colin Creevey asked.

"A bit obvious, init." Neville said quietly. "What about Defense Association?"

Luna gave a small giggle and leant over to whisper into Hermione's ear. Hermione grinned. "There we have it! The Defending Harry Association. DA for short." Everyone cheered and clapped, but regardless of their apparent enthusiasm they were all forced to sign a contract that promised dire results if they broke their oath of secrecy.

That night, Dumbledore had the most disturbing dream. One might think perhaps in his sleep he was atoning for his sins, but he wasn't that noble. Instead he dreamt that he had been captured in the Ministry and brought back to Voldemort's lair.

At present Dumbledore was in the form of a snake. This particular snake was trapped in a glass fishbowl, while Nagini tried to slither up the side of the glass and get in to eat him.

"She's dead, she's dead," Dumbledore tried to remind himself as Nagini almost got in that time. But she looked so alive, and he could feel her breath on his scales.

The most disturbing part of the dream, however, was taking place on the bed. He wasn't forced to watch anyone being tortured like you might have thought. Instead, two figures lay intertwined, gasping and moaning as they pulled apart and came together again. Their love for one another was obvious and it shone around them like the sun as it rose after the night. Dumbledore looked away with a grimace, wishing he had hands with which to block his ears as Voldemort gave a particularly load groan and Harry shrieked as he orgasmed, screaming, "I love you!" louder than human's had thought possible.

Dumbledore bit his tail, over and over, trying to distract himself from the panting and the stink of sex that lingered in the room. He wanted to wake up. He bit himself again, just as Nagini fell into the fish bowl. When she bit him, he woke up. Dumbledore lay in his bed, sweating, and scowled as he felt the phantom pain from his bites all along his legs.

"Bloody Potter," he scowled.

_XXX_

May 8th 1996.

A special commission had been established under what was left of the Muggle Protection Act. However, this sub clause allowed Wizards to remove Muggleborn children from their homes by force. From there the children would be sent to the Sub-Department of Wizarding Family Services where a nice pure- or half-blood family would seek to adopt the child and raise it with proper Wizarding values.

Any Muggleborn currently in the Wizarding World were being rounded up and interrogated. Minister Lenning insisted that it was necessary to find out about their Muggle lives so that there was no possibility of anyone spilling the secret of their world. Many people agreed with him. After all only one in ten Muggleborns actually stayed in the Magical World. Those nine out of ten were out there somewhere, probably exploiting their magic, and risking the exposure of the rest of them. Those nine out of ten were being hunted down by the Death Eaters as these interrogations went on, and they were being killed mercilessly.

It was during one of these interrogations, of a half-blood who would later be released with a full apology – that Severus Snape stormed in unannounced and threw himself at Marvolo Hayes' feet. Marvolo was the Ministers undersecretary, along with Lucius Malfoy. It just made things so much easier when you could control the world without the media limelight being on you.

"My Lord, I pledge my full allegiance to you and you alone." He looked up, and seemed to realize that not only Death Eaters surrounded them and his face pinkened. Most of the people here did support Voldemort, and those that were released from the Imperious were too relieved to be alive to be outraged. No one said anything. They carried on interrogating the half-blood and allowed Snape and Marvolo to silently leave the room.

"Severus?"

"I know you were questioning my allegiance, and yes I approached the vampires, but I want to assure you that I am loyal to you alone."

"Only to me?" Voldemort seemed dubious.

It seemed with good reason, as Severus swallowed heavily. "And to Harry Potter, my Lord, but I doubt that would be a problem from what Draco has told me."

"Lily's son," Voldemort whispered. "So you still love her?"

"And I always will." He turned, without being dismissed, and walked away. Voldemort watched him leave with a smirk; what Severus had just said reminded him of what he had promised Harry on Valentines Day. It was with a smile that Voldemort reentered Courtroom Ten.

_XXX_

May 8th 1996. Same time.

For the past week Voldemort had been disappearing off to the Ministry with Lucius and the new Minister for Magic. Harry understood that it was necessary, of course, but it didn't mean he was happy about it. He missed Voldemort, damn it. He was used to Voldemort being there for him, whether he wanted to be alone or not. And now Voldemort just wasn't there. It was good for Harry, because he was getting too attached. Before he had been reliant on Tom, and now he was relying on the presence of Voldemort, when really he should only rely on himself to get through the day. It was nice to have others around constantly, but it didn't necessarily happen that way and Harry had to come to terms with that.

There were plenty of other people around to keep him company.

Usually he sought out Fenrir. Today he was with Fenrir, Remus and Sirius, and they were sitting together on the bench in front of the grand Lake and the Whomping Willow. Sirius hated the sight of Fenrir but they made an effort to ignore the others existence for Harry's sake – it was either that or argue constantly.

Fenrir was sitting on the floor, leaning back against Harry's legs and singing softly. Harry was wedged between his godfathers, and the two men held hands behind Harry's back. It was silent except for Fenrir's singing and Harry admitted that the man had a very good voice. He did like listening to Fenrir talk as well. Idly, Harry wondered what the werewolf sounded like when he was screaming (in pain or pleasure, it didn't make a difference).

Another figure approached them, just as several others arrived back at Malfoy Manor and Voldemort made his way through the gardens in search of Harry. Alvis Yacob, the Vladislav vampire Prince, gave a deep bow when he stopped in front of Harry and held his hand out. "May I speak with you a moment in private?"

Harry took his hand and together they walked a little away from the bench. The werewolves would still be able to hear, but that didn't bother Alvis. It was the human godfather that annoyed the living daylights out of him; the human was the interfering one he didn't want listening in.

"I find I am quite fond of you, little one. I wondered if you ever considered what it would be like to be royalty?"

"How so?"

"I could make you a Prince, a King by human standards. I could give you anything. And all I ask in return is that you might learn to love me, and to allow me to care for you."

"You want me to what?" Harry asked in astonishment. Alvis still held tight to his hand.

"Mate with me." He leant forward, striking like a cobra, and captured Harry's lips with his.

Harry pushed him back softly, not wanting to anger or offend the man. Harry caught Voldemort's eyes over the vampires shoulder and frowned. Voldemort looked outraged, but also hurt and betrayed. Harry made sure to talk loudly so that there would be no misunderstanding, and so that Voldemort would be sure to hear.

"I'm sorry but I can't. I already love someone else."

"I have been told he is dead?" Alvis said with a hint of a question at the end.

"Very well," Harry chuckled. "Then I love two someone elses."

"Who would the second be?" Voldemort asked coming up behind the brunette and spinning him around so that they were face to face.

"If you actually need me to answer I'd be very disappointed, Amnon." Voldemort didn't respond verbally. Instead he grabbed Harry's jaw with one hand and pulled their faces together. His other hand fisted into Harry's hair as the boy parted his lips and allowed Voldemort's tongue to assault his mouth. When they pulled back from their first kiss, Harry smiled and rubbed his fingers over his bruised lips. Alvis had walked away and was stood with the others at the bench. They watched in shock, horror or amusement.

Sirius couldn't believe his eyes; Tom was one thing, but Voldemort? Remus hadn't seen it coming on Harry's part, so he was a little shocked, but he had known about Voldemort's feelings. Fenrir merely chuckled and gave Harry a 'thumbs up'. "Bout time, Pup."

"I love you," Voldemort said and Harry answered in kind. Sirius couldn't take anymore, and so he fainted. Neither of the Dark Lords noticed as they were joined once more at the mouth, their arms wrapped around each other as they tried to get as close as possible, wanting and needing more of the other.

As far as first kisses go between couples, Voldemort thought this one blew all the others away.

_XXX_

May 10th 1996.

"What about on the twelfth?" Someone suggested. At the moment Harry was sitting in Voldemort's lap, Voldemort was sitting on his throne, and the Death Eaters were standing around them in a semi-circle in the Ballroom of Malfoy Manor. They were trying to decide when they would attack Hogwarts.

"We should work out a plan before the date." Another said.

"Well," Harry said looking up at Voldemort. "We can't attack until after the fifteenth at least."

"And why is that?" Voldemort breathed against Harry's ear. It made some of the Death Eaters uncomfortable so they looked away but the majority of them were happy for the couple.

"The OWLs and NEWTs start tomorrow and don't end until the fifteenth. Just because I'm not taking them this year doesn't mean it's fair to disrupt them for the other students. Spend the next week planning how you're getting **in** to Hogwarts, then we'll decide a date."

As always, when Harry made a suggestion, as long as it wasn't completely ridiculous, Voldemort immediately agreed to it. The attack on Hogwarts was delayed for a week, and everyone spent the rest of the night trying to think of a plan on how to accomplish what they wanted. The only plan that might have had a chance of succeeding involved two Vanishing Cabinets, a special room in Hogwarts and one very willing Hogwarts student.

Harry had just the right person in mind.

**XXX**

**1** – has anyone ever read Demon Diary? Raneaf is soooo cute.

Ministry information is taken from the HP-Lexicon.

Thanks for reading, please leave a review. I'm so close to the 400 I wanted. This chapter seemed to go on forever. It isn't that long but I feel that maybe I should have split it into two?

SPOILER FOR NEXT CHAPTER – they finally have sex!! And then they attack Hogwarts. Aren't you all excited?

BU"**Between Two Ages**"/U/B - P/C Imagine if the Kings and Queens of Old had found a way back to Narnia straight after leaving the wardrobe. What will they make of the thousands of strange people washing up on the coast of Cair Paravel, led by Caspian II. 1300 years later Peter finds himself back in Narnia face-to-face with another Caspian, but not the one he remembers. Could he love this Caspian too, or is Narnia far too different to how it once was? / Slash. Peter/Caspian X. AU. Peter/Caspian III. Death. Violence. Language. Takes place at the end of the Golden Age, then through to Telmarine Narnia.


	18. Battle For Hogwarts

New chapter: wow, only one to go now

New chapter: wow, only one to go now. It should be good, I think. And I hope I don't disappoint anyone too much with my ending! I answered some frequently asked questions at the bottom of the chapter.

Slash in the first part, as promised. This is one long-ass chapter.

**Words: **6,500

**Chapter 18**

**Battle For Hogwarts**

May 13th 1996.

It was one of those mornings where the sun persistently seems to manage to sneak through every curtain and blind in the room, where the sun beams are determined to shine upon ones eyes despite the fact that one obviously just wants to sleep a little longer. Voldemort groaned, and rolled onto his side. Or he tried to. Instead, Harry gave a moan and tightened his hold on Voldemort's neck. The Dark Lord rubbed at his eyes as they fluttered open, squinting as the sun was directly shining at them, and looked down at Harry's head.

The teenager had somehow managed to roll on top of him during the night and was now clinging to his own body like a vice. Harry's knees were pressed against Voldemort's hips, his arms around Voldemort's neck, and his face pressed to Voldemort's collarbone.

Harry's mouth must have been open because Voldemort could feel his parted lips pressing against his collarbone, and when Harry licked his lips in his sleep Voldemort felt his cock jump to attention. With a frustrated sigh, he rolled Harry off of him, without waking the boy, and slipped from the bed. As much as he enjoyed waking with Harry on top of him, and as much as his erection proved he enjoyed it, he wanted to be considerate to Harry's feelings. He hadn't outright asked Harry whether the boy was ready to be more intimate with him. Rather he just assumed that Harry would want to be completely over Tom because having sex with Voldemort, despite the fact that he had openly admitted to being in love with Voldemort as well as Tom.

Voldemort paused at the side of the bed. He smiled, an unusual sight for this particular man, and lent down to press a kiss to the back of Harry's head. Harry merely nuzzled his face against Tom's pillow before letting out a soft sigh and appearing to relax back into sleep.

Voldemort made his way to the bathroom. Malfoy Manor had many bathrooms and most of them had deep set baths big enough for twelve people, like the ones at Hogwarts, but Voldemort had always preferred the ones that had a toilet, a sink and a shower. Maybe it was because he was Muggle raised? Or perhaps he thought he might drown if he ever fell asleep in the bath? Regardless, he hurriedly removed his trousers and socks before turning the nozzle on the showerhead to set the pressure. Then he pressed the start button and stepped under the spray.

He was just rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when the bathroom door opened and someone else stepped inside. He turned, his lips ready to curse the intruder before he realized it was only Harry.

"Harry?" Voldemort asked softly, his hands smoothing his hair back from his forehead so water was no longer dripping into his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Harry smiled, his head tilted to one side as he eyes Voldemort's naked body. "It's nothing I haven't done before." He whispered before pulling his t-shirt over his head. The Dark Lord's eyes widened slightly as Harry pushed down his pajama trousers and stepped out of them, towards the shower. "May I join you?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Voldemort said reluctantly. He wanted nothing more than to agreed, and see Harry naked and wet. Harry was already naked, of course, but there was such a difference between 'naked' and 'naked and _wet_'! Voldemort couldn't help but let his eyes roam over Harry's body. He did try not to, he did try and respect Harry as a person (which is what he thought a Gryffindor would appreciate) but instead he found himself eyeing the boy lustfully. He licked his lips at one point and Harry noticed, and smirked.

"Why not?" Harry asked. He continued to move towards the shower. He stepped in, and Voldemort tried to step out, but Harry took him by the arm and pressed himself against Voldemort's chest. The man let out a tortured groan, his fingers clenching before he gave up any idea of resistance and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. He pulled the younger man into a desperate kiss, their tongues dueling as their lips clashed and teeth bit and nibbled. "I think this was one of my better ideas, my Lord." Harry raised an eyebrow as he spoke, looking far more like a Slytherin than the Gryffindor he should have been.

"You aren't ready for this, I should never have-"

Harry's lips cut him off. Just as Voldemort thought he might die from the taste of Harry, the boy pulled back. His hand cupped Voldemort's cheek. "Who said I'm not ready? I love you. I want to be with you."

There was only one thing Voldemort could think of to say in reply: "in the shower?"

Harry tugged the elder man back, so they were flush against each other. "Anywhere you'll have me." His eyes were bright and so very green, and Voldemort could see he was nothing but sincere. They shone with honesty and lust, but not a hint of anxiety.

"Everywhere," Voldemort breathed in awe before his lips claimed Harry's once more. Harry's hands tangled in Voldemort's wet hair, pulling his head down harder against his own face. Voldemort was still gripping Harry's shoulders, but he allowed his hands to slide down so that one was pressed to the small of Harry's back and the other was lightly cupping his arse. Harry moaned into the kiss and arched backwards so Voldemort's hand was pressed against his arse just that much harder. Voldemort's hand squeezed out of reflex and Harry gave another moan, his own hand sliding down and slipping between their bodies to palm Voldemort's erection.

The elder man pulled back, eyes wide. "Harry," he said gently, forgetting that he wasn't speaking to someone inexperienced (like Harry certainly would have been if not for Tom).

"It's not like I haven't done this before." He said it quietly, his eyes were still closed from the kiss and his head tilted back as he waited for Voldemort's lips to touch his again. His entire body had tensed up slightly nonetheless.

Voldemort gave a small flinch at the reminder before he gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath and said something he hoped would relax the teenager. "In the shower?"

Harry's eyes snapped open before he gave a soft chuckled. He bit his bottom lip, looking bashful before shaking his head. "In the bath once, but never in the shower."

Voldemort made a small humming noise. His eyes, red and usually expressionless, seemed to dance in amusement as he lent down to whisper against Harry's ear, "always a first time for everything." He bit on the boy's collarbone then and Harry gave a slight cry, his fingers clutching at Voldemort's hair again. Harry's hips rocked forward, brushing his erection against Voldemort's thigh (for he was quite a bit shorter than the other man, so neither of them were directly in line with the other). "I love you Harry," Voldemort said as he pulled back. His lips moved across Harry's neck then, and up to his chin and his cheeks. He feathered kisses across the boy's face, and eyes, and nose and then onto his lips as his hand moved down to knead Harry's arse.

He figured his fingers were wet enough. He allowed one to slip between the cheeks of Harry's arse and gently trace the hidden opening. Harry mewled lightly as the digit pushed past, and entered him. A second finger followed soon after and Harry moaned throatily at the slight burning pain it caused. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at that. He had expected Harry to wince at the least; instead he seemed to enjoy it. Voldemort scissored his fingers, stretching Harry before allowed a third finger to join the others.

When he was prepared, Voldemort grabbed the underside of both of Harry's thighs. "Jump up, love," he ordered softly. Harry did as he was told, and Voldemort caught him and helped him hook his legs around Voldemort's waist. He turned then, Harry in his arms, so he was pressing Harry's back to the shower wall. Harry hissed at the coldness of the tiles, compared to the warm water he had been standing under previously.

He took Harry's hips, and Harry gripped his shoulders, and Voldemort lifted the boy up, before positioning his penis at Harry's pucker and allowing the teenager to slide back down onto him. Voldemort bit his lip, his head lolling forward onto the hollow between Harry's neck and shoulder, as he groaned. Harry was so hot and tight and it was all he could do not to come then and there. Harry's fingers were tugging at his hair all of a sudden, whispered words spilling from Harry's lips in a desperate mantra but Voldemort couldn't hear him.

He pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, silencing him. "Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me, fuck me, please, please, please," the boy pleaded desperately, his eyes squeezed closed as his fingers moved through Voldemort's hair and then down to his shoulders. "Please, please, please."

Voldemort did as he was asked. The fingers of one of his hands dug into Harry's hips, the other hand he pressed against the wall for leverage as he arched forward, pressing as far into Harry as possible. Then he pulled almost all of the way out and thrust back in again, hard. Harry whimpered at the loss then screamed as Voldemort slammed into him. They moved together like that, soft and then hard, with Harry clinging to Voldemort for dear life.

Harry's head was thrown back against the tiles, rolling from side to side as his orgasm dawned ever closer. Voldemort sucked against the skin of Harry's collarbone, his teeth clamping down, marking the boy as he came hard. His entire body shook with his release and the hand that held Harry squeezed hard enough to bruise. Harry came soon after, his own hand on his cock, stroking in time to Voldemort's thrusts. His back arched and he threw his head back so hard it hit the wall with a 'thump' but he didn't care because he was seeing stars anyway.

When their breath had slowed and their heart rates calmed, they pulled apart. Harry stood upon shaky legs, his eyes still closed and his lips parted but smiling. Voldemort was inexplicably drawn to the site, his own lips curling upwards in a soft smile as he watched his lover bask in their afterglow.

"That was amazing," Harry spoke at last, and Voldemort couldn't have agreed more.

When they could finally bear to lose the moment, they left the shower, dried and dressed and headed back to Voldemort's bedroom. From there they headed to the dining room for breakfast. They entered the room hand in hand, and Fenrir's lips immediately twitched into a sly grin, because as a werewolf he could smell 'sex' all over them even after the shower. Remus could smell it as well, but he was a little more discreet. Lucius and Sirius both noticed the grin on Fenrir's face, as well as the completely relaxed posture of Voldemort as he sat down, which just screamed post-coital bliss.

"What the hell-" He started, about to rant and rave about Voldemort defiling his godson, but Remus' wand was obviously quicker than Sirius' tongue because he was suddenly under a silencing spell before he could finish his sentence.

Lucius honestly had better things to worry about than Harry's virtue. His eye twitched as a loud crash echoed through the manor. It seemed to have come from outside, but whatever had broken was big enough to echo through the walls. Narcissa was sat beside her husband, and her lips turned down at the noise.

"My Lord," Lucius started and Voldemort turned to face him. "Please?" He whispered looking out of the nearest window.

Two giants were shoving each other back and forth and the delicate and expensive fountain that had once been outside of that particular window was now rubble, crushed under the feet of the giants. Three more giants stood around them, throwing pieces of the rubble at the two fighting. It was only the wards directly around the manor that stopped the stones flying in through the windows.

Voldemort scowled. "I'll order them to make their way to Hogwarts and to wait in the Forbidden Forest."

"Thank you," Lucius and Narcissa breathed together, their entire beings relaxing at the words.

A house elf appeared shortly after, and Harry immediately stood to take the mail. The elf looked at Harry, and like he had done for the past two days, shook his head softly and handed the parchment to Lucius.

"What's wrong?" The blond man asked. There was a letter from Draco; it was addressed to his parents, but it included a smaller letter for Harry, which Lucius gave him.

"I'm waiting for a letter from Hermione. I suppose it can wait another day before I look elsewhere."

"Elsewhere for what?" Remus said as he took off the silencing spell from his mate. Sirius looked interested as he waited for Harry to answer.

"It won't matter, not until she writes back." He returned to his breakfast, and it was only Voldemort and Lucius who knew exactly what Harry had in mind. It all involved two Vanishing Cabinets, a special room in Hogwarts and a certain Hogwarts student that still hadn't replied to his owl.

_XXX_

May 14th 1996.

"**Harry, (or is it still Dorian?)**

"**I admit I was rather surprised when Malfoy gave me your letter. I rather thought it was cursed at first. Not that I think you would curse me! But you know Malfoy and I never have gotten along. Well, lately it has been better, since we have you in common and we're researching how to de-possess people in Defense class. A waste of time if you ask me. It's all rot, and Umbridge is absolutely useless**. **I say they bring back Remus; at least he knew what he was talking about!**

"**Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I have thought over your proposal and have come to a decision. Now, I want you to know that I have thought long and hard and I must admit that I even asked Malfoy a few questions and then talked it over with Cedric, (we've become quite close, you see). By the way, he offered to assist you as long as none of the students are injured. Harry! That was exactly why I delayed in answering you. If you can promise me that the Death Eaters are only going to do what they must, and not purposely go out of their way to kill or injure students then I'd be happy to help you. **

"**You were my first and only friend, and I have always stood behind you. I'm so sorry there was nothing I could do for you when you were sent to Azkaban, but I am glad that you had Tom with you. I admit I feel insanely guilty for his – death? I had known you were there before I told Mr. Malfoy and Voldemort. I am sorry, but I couldn't get you out of the room. When you were unconscious, I unbound you and tried to levitate you out, but I couldn't get you from the room. I was worried that the Headmaster might have known that I tried something, or I would have gone to them sooner. I am so sorry!**

"**I know he killed Ginny, and I know Ron died because of Voldemort as well, but Harry, I was always so much closer to you than to them. Does that make me a bad person? That I could overlook their deaths if it means I get my best friend back? Nonetheless. I want to help you. I need to help you, or I don't think I could live with myself if someone else helps you and people get injured because no one thought to ask you to limit the others. **

"**Please don't injure the students, Harry. Also, I understand that if I were to refuse help I would automatically be Obliviated? Well, there's no need for that, is there. Now, you said that the other Cabinet had already been fixed and was in place? Which house elf am I to ask as to the location of the other Cabinet? Do let me know soon; I would like to get this over with as soon as possible. **

"**Many regards, and much love, Hermione Granger."**

Harry rolled the parchment back up and looked at Voldemort. "Well she replied." He said with a soft smile. Voldemort thought over Hermione's words, having listened to Harry read it out loud.

"Very well, let her proceed."

He nodded once at his younger lover and left the room. The moment Voldemort was gone, Harry wrote out another letter, detailing the task at hand. "Dobby," he called when he was finished.

Dobby had tried to help Harry before second year started, warning him not to go back to school, and a part of Harry (during the stay at Azkaban) wondered what would have happened if he had listened. He had only recently noticed Dobby around the Manor, and when Dobby had noticed him back the house elf had refused to leave his side even after Lucius had 'Crucioed' him. Dobby was now Harry's personal elf, though Lucius was reluctant to part with his most _amusing_ elf.

"Yes Master Harry Sir?" He said, bowing so his nose touched the floor.

"Take this to Hermione Granger at Hogwarts. And don't be seen." He handed the roll of parchment to the elf. Dobby stood up long enough to grab it before bowing low again. "And stop bowing in front of me," Harry said exasperatedly. Dobby jumped to his feet immediately and tugged at his ear anxiously with one hand, before disappearing with a 'pop'.

At Hogwarts, Hermione read over the parchment, took a deep breath and readied herself for what she had promised to do. Regardless of doubts and fear and the end result, she had promised and she would keep her promise to Harry. It was the least she owed him.

_XXX_

May 18th 1996.

Where it might have taken anyone else the entire school year, Hermione had completed her task within four days. All it had taken to fix the broken Cabinet was a combination of cleaning Charms and two small spells to fix a few cracks in the wood. Just to be on the safe side, she had called for Dobby and asked him to wait at the other Cabinet (though Hermione didn't know where that one was). Then she had thrown a rather heavy text book into the Cabinet and closed the door. Dobby had arrived back five minutes later with the book in hand.

"Tell Harry it's ready." She said as she left the room.

Draco watched her go, standing half hidden in the shadows of the corridor. He knew most of what Harry and the Dark Lord were planning, from what Hermione questioned him about, from what his father told him and from what Harry chose to share with him. He knew it wasn't that Harry didn't trust him: they were best friends now, and Harry did trust him. But Harry was afraid of what Dumbledore might do to Draco if Draco were to know too much. It might have been callous but Hary was more willing to risk Hermione's safety (who was relatively safe as a Mudblood Gryffindor) than Draco's (who was the Slytherin son of a Death Eater).

That didn't make Draco any less jealous of Hermione though. He wanted to be the one to help Harry, to contribute to the Dark Lord's cause and to help avenge Tom, Harry and Voldemort all against Dumbledore. But instead Granger was chosen. Draco gave a roll of his eyes as he noticed Dean Thomas slip out from behind a tapestry and eye the door Hermione had left through. The door had disappeared now that the room wasn't in use and Dean knocked on the stone wall, trying to push it open to no avail. Draco hexed him in the back and then followed Hermione down the stairs. Just because he couldn't help Harry, didn't mean he couldn't help Hermione help Harry.

_XXX_

May 18th 1996. Two hours later.

Harry had been informed as soon as Dobby returned to Hermione with the textbook. He had in turn let Voldemort know that their plan was ready to be put into action. As soon as he was able Voldemort called his Death Eaters to him, along with the Vampires and the Werewolves. The Vampires were already on their way to Hogwarts to meet with the giants. Their orders had been to delay any assistance from what was left of the Aurors (those hiding at Hogwarts). The werewolves were to deal with the Professors who resisted. The Death Eaters themselves were just to generally cause havoc and terrify those present while Bellatrix and Voldemort used the distraction to get to Dumbledore.

"The children are not to be injured. That means no torture and no killing," Harry said, and then paused. He remembered something Hermione had mentioned briefly in the letter she sent with Dobby, to let him know the Cabinet was fixed. "Unless they attack to kill, do not kill them." She had formed a rag-tag army of sorts, to help support Harry; but he didn't doubt they'd attack a Death Eater if they had to.

"Yes my Lord Indelible," they chorused. Voldemort had already finished giving out his instructions so the Death Eaters began to leave the ballroom.

They would be leaving first, along with Voldemort. The werewolves would be the last to leave, although Harry and Sirius were staying in the manor. Voldemort didn't want to risk harm falling on Harry, and Remus decided someone needed to stay and keep Harry distracted. Or at least that was what he told Voldemort. Remus knew it was more likely that Harry would distract Sirius, until Sirius found a way to convince his godson that they both might as well just go along with the others.

And that was precisely what happened. Sirius and Harry remained in the library while the Death Eaters left through the Vanishing Cabinet. They moaned and complained about how unfair everything was until Sirius frowned and looked hard at his godson. "Why are we here?"

"Cause Voldemort said we should stay."

"Why does he get to decide?" Sirius asked petulantly.

"Cause he's Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sirius scoffed. "What are you? Chopped liver?"

Harry's eyes widened in realization. He looked at Sirius just as the same idea dawned on the other man. "I'm Lord Indelible. Why are you still here?"

"Voldemort said I had to stay." He said with a smirk.

"I asked why were you still here." Harry grinned at him. With a wave of his wand they were both dressed in hooded black robes, and Sirius conjured a bone white mask to hide his face.

"Why am I still here?" He asked as he stood up and held his hand out for Harry. "Because my Lord hasn't yet told me to leave."

"Then let's go." They ran into Lucius' spare study where the Cabinet was being kept just as the last of the werewolves were going through. Fenrir and Remus, along with two others, were all that remained.

Fenrir frowned, "why are you both here?"

"Lord Indelible ordered that we join in." Sirius said, giving a mock bow in Harry's direction.

One of the other werewolves grinned and muttered, "son of a bitch!"**1**

"Those are my initials," Sirius said with a grin, pushing past the werewolf. "Don't wear them out." Then he climbed into the Cabinet and closed the door behind him. When the werewolf opened the door, Sirius was already stepped out of the other Cabinet in the Room of Requirements.

Hermione was waiting in the Room when they arrived. The vampires had run to Hogwarts as they could move a lot faster than a normal person. That meant that Hermione was in a room filled with Death Eaters, but not vampires, which some might have considered a plus, and then the werewolves joined them. Sirius hopped out of the Cabinet with a large smirk on his face.

"What are you doing here Black?" Voldemort said, glaring at him, his wand out.

"Sirius Black?" Hermione breathed, her eyes widening. Despite herself she took a step backwards. Two werewolves appeared, and Hermione jumped forwards so they weren't leaning over her anymore.

"Pleased to be of service, my Lord." He gave a small bow to Voldemort then smirked in Hermione's direction. Fenrir and Remus arrived, saving Voldemort from having to give a response. He gritted his teeth instead, and tried to make himself calm down by thinking of Harry.

Until Harry came through the Cabinet.

"POTTER!" He shouted, more annoyed than enraged.

Harry gave a soft smile and calmly walked towards the Dark Lord. He pressed his lips against Voldemort's chastely then pulled back. "Shall we?" He asked, pointing at the door.

Harry didn't wait for an answer. Instead he opened the door and walked out of the room. Fenrir immediately followed. With a nod to Bellatrix, the Dark Lord followed his lover. Lucius immediately took charge of the Death Eaters in his Lord's absence and Bellatrix filled in for Fenrir.

"You will not maim, kill or torture students." Lucius repeated.

"Professors and Aurors are fair game, isn't they?" Bella gave a soft giggle as she twirled her wand between her thumb and forefinger.

She waited for Lucius to leave first. He led the other Death Eaters from the room; they remained silent until they had spread themselves through the school, then immediately began to fire off hexes and curses at whatever they could aim at. Immediately screams and cries started up from inside the classrooms. Professors locked the doors, and the Death Eaters unlocked them and swept into the rooms, driving the children into a corner while they dealt with the teacher.

The werewolves howled and bayed as they waited for Bellatrix to unleash them. She did so with a war cry, throwing her hands up in the air and releasing the Dark Mark into the air. It hovered above the Vanishing Cabinet, a sickly green color, and as it appeared the werewolves rushed from the room clambering over one another so they could be the first one out.

Some of the students tried to run. Most of them headed for the Great Hall, and once inside they tried to barricade themselves in, ignoring the fact that there were still many more students on their way. The Death Eaters allowed them to pretend that they were safe. They stood outside of the doors, snickering into their hands as they listened to the cries and sobs come from inside the Hall. There were Aurors in the room; all that were left of those that opposed the new regime. They were shouting orders, directing students to stand in a certain place or with a specific group.

Those that didn't run to the Great Hall, ran outside. The vampires and the giants easily rounded them up and led them back inside.

Most of the Slytherin students, and some from the other Houses, walked up to the Death Eaters outside the Hall with Draco in their lead. "Could they go in?" Draco asked. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked slightly sulky. The Death Eater nodded and they all stepped aside. One cast a blasting Hex at the door and it swung inwards. The students ran inside. Draco turned and continued to do as Harry had asked him. In Harry's last letter he told Draco to find as many students as he could and bring them to the Great Hall, where Voldemort intended to address them once Dumbledore had been dealt with.

As he was passing the seventh corridor he spotted two first year Hufflepuffs ducking into the Room of Requirements. Draco wasn't sure what the Room did, but he had seen Hermione disappearing in there to do whatever Harry had tasked her to do, and he didn't think it was a good idea for the kids to be in there right now. So he followed them. "Hello? Are you ok?" He was a prefect after all, so the children came out of the room. As they were walking out of the door Draco heard a whimper. He turned to the Hufflepuffs. "Continue to the Great Hall, and tell them a prefect sent you." The children looked a little wary, but they followed his orders.

Draco ducked back into the room. He frowned trying to pin point where he had heard the whimper come from. His eyes zoned in on one of the room's four corners.

In that corner of the room, Dean Thomas grinned to himself as Draco inched closer. His wand was out, but so was Draco's. When Draco was close enough to see Dean's face, Seamus jumped out from behind the Vanishing Cabinet and tackled Draco to the floor.

Draco landed with a groan, the wind rushing out of his lungs. He panted for a moment then rolled to his side. He couldn't get up because Seamus was suddenly straddling his waist, and had punched him in the nose. Dean was standing beside them, and he kicked Draco in the ribs. They didn't know that Dorian Grey was Harry Potter in disguise. All they knew was that they hated Slytherins, of which Draco was one, and that Draco had been engaged to Dorian, who they hated also.

Draco managed to throw Seamus off of him. He jumped to his feet, accio-ing the wand that he had dropped and shot a hex at the Irish boy's direction. Seamus gave a pained cry and Dean's eyes narrowed in anger. His mouth set into a straight line, and he aimed his wand at Draco. "FEINDFYRE!" He roared.

The jet of light shot towards the blond, who could only stare in a sort of horribly detached manner as a fiery painful death rushed towards him. Suddenly he was tackled to the side. With another groan, he hit the ground and rolled, knocking his savior off of him. Harry looked down at him with a grin. "Miss you, brother." The brunette was on his feet seconds later, his wand aimed at Seamus, stunning him. Dean was knocked unconscious soon after. The fire was still raging, and because it was magical there was nothing that would put it out except time.

Draco looked around frantically. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," he said eyeing the fact that the flames were between them and the door, "but do you happen to have a way out of here?"

Harry pulled something out of his pocket and un-shrunk it. It was a Firebolt that Sirius had gotten him during their trip to Diagon Alley in August. Sirius said it was to make up for all the birthday's he had missed out on.

"Never leave home without it," Harry said with a grin as he mounted the broom. He took off, hovering a few inches in the air then held his hand out to Draco. The blond took his hand and climbed on behind his friend. Harry sped over the flames, diving to the side, as the fire seemed to reach out for them, trying to catch them with a burning hand. They flew through the door so fast they slammed into the opposite wall. The moment he had his breath back Harry jumped up and slammed the door closed, trapping the fire in the Room of Hidden Things.

"Don't try that at home, kids," Draco said with a smirk, still panting from the fear and the adrenaline.

Harry looked down at the blond, his brother of sorts, and smiled softly. He was about to speak when a voice suddenly seemed as if it were talking directly into his ear. Harry knew Voldemort wasn't behind him, but he spun around to check anyway. There was nothing there but air, but both boys could hear the voice, as could the rest of the school.

"I am Lord Voldemort. My followers have taken siege upon the school and I have the Headmaster in my possession as I speak. The children have not been harmed. In return for my act of mercy, all I ask is that the Aurors, previously of the Ministry, surrender their selves to my Death Eaters. They will be waiting outside of the Great Hall. You have one hour. If you still refuse to capitulate by that point, my followers will take pleasure in changing your minds." Harry could almost see the smirk on Voldemort's face as he carefully worded the last sentence.

Around the time Draco was leading the first group of students to the Great Hall, Fenrir had taken off after a Wizard who had bodily attacked Harry. Voldemort had lost his temper and demanded Harry return home (or he'd have to go back to sleeping in his own bed) and that was why Harry was outside of the Room of Requirements in time to rescue Draco from the Gryffindors.

Fortunately for Voldemort, Dumbledore was in the middle of a meeting with Severus when they began arriving at the School. The Headmaster had been half way out of the room, having heard the wards reacting to the vampires and the giants who were making their way out of the Forbidden Forest, when Severus acted. Severus, who was determined to prove his loyalty to Harry and Voldemort both, immediately stunned Dumbledore when his back was turned. And that was how Voldemort found them. The Dark Lord had arrived, wary with his wand out, expecting a battle only to find Dumbledore slumped over the threshold and Severus sitting in the Headmaster's chair sipping a coffee.

"Make yourself comfortable, Severus." Voldemort drawled, flicking his wand over Dumbledore. The man rose in the air, still unconscious. "You'll be taking over for now. I'll have the Lestrange brothers act as overseers, and later as joint deputy Headmasters."

"Thank you, my Lord." Severus rose from the chair, dipped into a bow, and sat down again. He carried on sipping his coffee as Dumbledore was levitated out of the room. When Voldemort found Bellatrix, he had her apparate Dumbledore back to Malfoy Manor. Then he cast the Sonorous spell on himself, and made his speech to the rest of the school.

Harry left with Draco after the speech. He didn't care what the Aurors did. He had one concern, and that was dealing with Albus Dumbledore.

_XXX_

May 19th 1996.

Bellatrix and Harry hadn't really spent much time together since they left Azkaban. But, like before they went there, they both had very different separate lives and it was hard to compact one and fit it inside of this new life they forged together. It was the same for Rabastian and Rudolphus. They may have spent years living side by side, but they were two different people with different interests and hobbies, not including serving the Dark Lord.

Bella and Harry did try and spend time together when there was nothing else going on. But more often than not they were both busy. Bella had to help her husband get their affairs into order behind the Ministry's back, Harry had Tom, and then Draco to occupy him, and then he was sent back to Hogwarts and then Tom died. And now Voldemort took all of his time up.

Bellatrix didn't begrudge the boy his happiness, but sometimes she was a little jealous that Harry no longer seemed to have time for her. But she knew the boy didn't mean to slight her purposefully. So she forgave him.

"Bella?" Harry asked quietly as he leant back against the dungeon wall. "I've missed you."

"You have no one to blame but yourself, ity bity Potter." She grinned at him, her eyes brightening.

"Is it weird that I think of you as the mother-I've-never-had? But you're still more like a crazy aunt who turns up every three months and tells me about her dead husband and shows me pictures of her cats?" Harry was actually thinking of Mrs. Figg and how nice it was to stay with her (even though he hated those visits) in comparison to the Dursleys.

"My husband is alive," Bella snorted, "and I'm allergic to cats."

"Dogs then?"

Bellatrix grinned widely, "Not everyone has a pet mutt, Harrykins."

"Don't call me that Madame Strange!" He glared at her. She reached over to punch him lightly on the arm.

"Don't call me that," she mocked, making faces at him.

It was at this point that Albus Dumbledore woke up. He was chained to the wall opposite them, a large metal collar clipped around his neck and the chain attached to the wall. His hands were tied together, but his feet were free. He was lying down, but he slowly got to his feet; the chain was long enough for him to stand or lie down comfortably, but he couldn't move any further than three steps away from the wall. His wand was snapped in half, the two halves were lying on the floor in his field of sight but just out of his reach – tauntingly.

"Oh," Bella cooed rubbing her hands together. "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey! Looks who's come to join the party."

"We couldn't have started without you." Harry said, a slow, cruel smile stretched across his features. Dumbledore shuddered and opened his mouth to attempt to talk some sense into Harry. Before he could get a word out, Harry looked at Bellatrix and said, "do what you do best."

She screamed, "CRUCIO!" and all Dumbledore knew for the rest of the night was agony of a kind you couldn't even imagine.

Harry listened to him scream, and he listened to Bellatrix torture him, and once or twice he cast the spell himself. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to listen to Tom screaming as he died, and Harry found that Dumbledore suddenly wasn't screaming loud enough. So, together with Bellatrix's spell, he cast a Crucio of his own.

Dumbledore screamed louder. Harry focused on his hate and his rage and his fear, and the spell doubled in intensity. He hummed lightly listening to Dumbledore sob between screams, and briefly he wondered if this was what Hell would be like, before he put the thought from his mind and focused on the here and now. He cast the spell again. This time he chuckled manically as he punished Albus for his sins.

Bellatrix eyes him warily, wondering if they had more in common that she had thought.

**XXX**

**1** – Son of a Bitch – S.O.B. – Sirius Orion Black. I thought it was rather funny.

There have been a few questions I have yet to address; and since this is the penultimate chapter, I might as well address them here.

FIRSTLY: remember, that the Twins hated Ron for betraying Harry like he did. And they don't blame Harry for Ginny's death either: since no one told them Harry was possessed by Tom (only Hermione was told). And really, none of them have spoken to Percy for years? It isn't like they can prove that Harry did it anyway.

SECONDLY: For those that are wondering about Fenrir being friends with Harry but not wanting to turn him into a Werewolf:

– In chapter 4 Remus told some of the Order that Fenrir had offered to protect Harry from the Wizarding World, as long as someone else broke him out of Azkaban. Ergo, Fenrir was already inclined to get along with Harry should they meet later on.

– Fenrir bit Remus. They don't like each other, but it's just like having a father you don't get on with. You're still family. If you hate your father, you won't necessarily hate your son, etc. Fenrir is like family to Harry because he bit Remus and Remus considers Harry his cub.

– Also, why would someone risk pissing off the Dark Lord just to make one more Werewolf when there are so many other people he can bite?

THIRDLY: For those that wondered about what happened to Bellatrix and Harry's friendship. The woman has only just got out of Azkaban for the first time in 13 years! I'm sure she wants time to rediscover the world. Not to mention spend some alone time with her husband now that they no longer have to sleep with her brother-in-law. And Harry and Bella will have some catching up time while they torture Dumbledore (grin). Plus, Harry has also been rather busy with Tom, and then with Voldemort, and taking over the world: friendships he forged in desperation sometimes take the back burner in the face of love and power (smirk).

FOURTHLY: As to Hermione's reaction to the Muggleborn interrogations, don't forget that nobody outside of the Ministry knows. Voldemort doesn't want them rebelling against him while he is busy taking care of Dumbledore! Hermione is exempt, as are all the other Muggleborn students, until they graduate. Even then, Harry will likely vouch for Hermione. She doesn't know; therefore she cannot have a reaction.

Hopefully that answers the questions. If not, send me a message, or another review, and I'll message you back.

Thanks for reviewing (assuming you will). Please do.


	19. Retribution

I just wanted to point something out

I just wanted to point something out. I have 359 people who have added this story to alerts. If everyone reviewed once I would have 6,462 reviews. Instead I only have 365 reviews. Now I'm not saying I review every chapter of every story I read, but still, it's something to think about.

Since this is the final chapter can at least 35 people, of the 359 people who have me on Alert, review? That way I can get the 400 reviews I want? Enjoy the final chapter. I'll work on The Lambs and Soul Seeker now.

**Words: **4,940

**Chapter 19**

**Retribution**

May 20th 1996.

"Tell me about it again?" Harry asked softly.

He was leaning back against the dungeon wall, his legs stretched out in front of him and his cloak tucked under his bum like a pillow. Bellatrix turned her head a fraction of an inch. She gazed at him out of the corner of her eyes. Her lips twitched slightly in amusement and the person she had been staring at a moment ago stopped screaming as her attention caused her spell to falter. She lowered her wand.

"Tell you about what?" She said, followed by a high-pitched giggle. She knew what Harry wanted to hear: she had already told him three times in the last ten hours.

Harry smiled at her, thanking her for being patient with him. "The night you were arrested."

Bellatrix laid her wand on the ground beside her, and rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Oh what a fun night that was, was fun that night!" She swiveled around so she was now sitting and facing Harry. "Rudolphus, Rabastian and I, and Barty of course. You haven't met dear Barty have you, Harrykins? Barty's as batty as a two-knut whore, he is, but oh so fun to have around for a party. He was at our Lord's resurrection you know? How come you haven't met him, then?"

"Don't know, perhaps Voldemort thought he'd be a bad influence on me?" Harry waved his hand, inviting Bellatrix to continue.

She grinned up at the ceiling, lost in thought for a moment, before turning to Harry again. "Was such a good night, I can still hear the screams ringing and ringing in my ears. It was a month after you defeated our Lord. We went looking for you, you know? We was gonna hurt you, make you scream and cry." She licked her lips, her eyes were sparkling and it made Harry feel distinctly uncomfortable as she fantasized about torturing him. "But we didn't find you, no, no, no, they wouldn't tell us where you were."

"Who?" Harry asked, though he already knew the answer.

This was mostly for their 'guests' attention. Harry smirked as his eyes met the crumpled form of Albus Dumbledore. The man was laid out on his back, arms and legs splayed though they were twitching and shaking. His mouth was open and a little bit of sick dribbled down his chin. When Bellatrix had lowered her wand a moment ago, he had immediately begun to retch. For ten hours they had tortured him, and Harry had to admit the man was lasting better then anyone could have expected. The chain around Dumbledore's neck rattled as he rolled to his side with a groan.

"You won't-" Dumbledore started, before he dissolved into racking coughs. "You can't expect to win!" He finally spat out.

"Crucio," Harry said, effortlessly putting the man back under the effects of the torture curse. Dumbledore screamed, his arms clinging to his chest, as he fought not to scratch at his eyes and face. Hurting himself distracted from the pain. It was as if someone was crawling along inside of you, dancing along every nerve in your body and pressing down with their weight making it hurt, and hurt, deep inside of you. Albus wanted to claw those things out of him, pull them up through his skin so they couldn't hurt him anymore. He knew it was irrational, he knew it was the magic making him hurt not any foreign intruder and yet he still scratched at his face and bit through his lips, and had to lie on his stomach and arms to stop himself gouging out his own eyes.

Bella gave a giggle, clapping her hands as she watched the old Wizard writhe on the dirty floor. "Alice and Frank Longbottom, of course, dearest," Bella sing-songed when Harry finished the spell and Dumbledore fell silent.

"What happened?" Harry's eyes never left Dumbledore's face as he spoke. The old man was panting, and Harry merely raised an eyebrow as pleading blue eyes finally rose and met his.

"Oh we had such a party." Bellatrix actually stood up and twirled around in a circle before dropping back to the ground with a smirk. "They wouldn't tell us where you are. So we 'crucioed' and 'crucioed' and then I 'crucioed' too, and Barty 'crucioed' with us, and the screams, Harry, it was like music ringing out into the night. Rudolphus and I danced as they screamed you know, waltzing around the room to the sounds of their pain and our 'crucios'." She licked her lips again. "But then the Aurors came and the party had to end. Oh, but Harry, the Longbottoms never forgot that night."

"They forgot everything else though?"

"Oh, yes. They're quite insane now. They don't even know their own names! They must have enjoyed themselves quite a bit if that night is all they remember?" She looked away in thought, her lips pursed. "I wonder did they enjoy it as much as I did? I dreamt about it, every night until I met you. The Dementors rather enjoyed it too, I'd wager." She let out a cackle then, her head thrown back and Harry found it rather amusing that Dumbledore flinched from the sound. "But why do you want to know?"

Harry didn't answer her. Instead he stood up and slowly walked closer to Dumbledore before crouching down.

"My whole life I've been at the mercy of others." He said softly. Bellatrix looked over at him warily, picking her wand up off the floor as she came towards him. "I suppose I can't be mad at my parents, after all I was a baby then. But you, you had the power to put me with people who would love me. And you didn't. You, the one with power, left me powerless with Muggles!"

"You heard her," Dumbledore gasped out. "They were looking for you."

"At the Longbottoms. There were other families that would have loved me. Other families the Death Eaters wouldn't suspect!" He stood up, his face hard and his mouth turned down in anger. "No, you wanted me helpless, powerless. I was at the mercy of _merciless_ Muggles, and when I thought I was saved – each and every time – you would ride in on your high horse and tell me why I just had to go back!"

Harry pointed his wand at Dumbledore again. "Was it worth it? Crucio."

When the screaming had stopped again, the teenager frowned. "You practically encourage child abuse-" Dumbledore tried to speak to deny it but nothing would come out of his mouth but air, "-then you send me to that place, for something **I didn't even do** and once again I'm at the mercy of someone else. Helpless once more. But at least I was not alone this time. Fortunately, or I'd probably have gone insane. Then, if those crimes were not bad enough, you kidnapped me, tied me up and made me watch you kill my lover. I watched **helpless**, _powerless_ as he died. And you, you could only mock my pain."

"I wonder," he said after a moment's pause, "if I felt the way the Longbottoms did as they watched each other be tortured to insanity? Helpless, powerless, and now they are at the mercy of the St. Mungos staff. I suppose it's a fitting end to you. After all, it's your fault they are there (if you hadn't believed the prophecy neither Neville nor I would have lost our parents). And it's your fault I'm here, right now, seeking revenge. No, revenge is a nasty word isn't it, Tinkerbell?" He tapped his wand against his thighs as he turned to look at his friend.

"Retribution," she said breathlessly, "divine retribution."

"Justice for all of your crimes." Harry looked at her with a fond smile and she reached out to squeeze his hand softly. It finally dawned on her what Harry had planned for the old man. Fitting. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your life, Albus."

"You're not going to kill me?" He seemed awed at the fact.

"You don't deserve the mercy of death. I've decided to be like you, _merciless_! Enjoy the rest of your life drifting in an endless abyss of helplessness." He raised his wand again, and so did Bellatrix. As they spoke, Albus' eyes widened in understanding and he realized the significance behind the tale of the Longbottoms. "CRUCIO!" They bellowed together and his world exploded, once more, into a familiar, blindingly bright explosion of pain and terror.

_XXX_

May 22nd 1996.

Over the past two days, Voldemort would sometimes enter the dungeon where Albus was being tortured. He never once raised his own wand at the older man. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, pulling the boy back to rest against his own chest and he laid his chin on Harry's head. Voldemort would smile slightly as Dumbledore screamed and begged for it to end. Soon though, the screams began whimpers equally as pained, and the pleas were nonsensically mutterings, the whisperings of a mad man.

Voldemort had long dreamed of torturing Albus and finally killing him, but he had to admit that Harry deserved this more. Harry had put up with so much more than he ever had to, Harry had suffered so much more and yet Harry had come out, through it all, as a better person.

Voldemort smiled faintly, as he leant back against the dungeon wall. Harry was in his arms, leaning back against his chest and he tilted his head back so Voldemort could reach his lips.

"He lasted a surprisingly long time," Harry finally said. Voldemort hummed in agreement and they watched as two Death Eaters grabbed Dumbledore under the arms and lifted him to his feet.

The man's eyes were wide open and glazed over. His face was a mass of bloody scratches, tears and dried vomit, but he didn't seem to notice. His clothes were filthy as well, wrinkled and unwashed. Dumbledore looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time.

"I can't see the sun," he whispered as he was dragged from the room. "Everything was so bright before. Hurt, hurt so much but I miss the light."

"It's night time." Geoffrey Goyle grumbled. "There ain't no sun up." Dumbledore let out a pitiful whimper at that and tried to curl in on himself. Angus Nott elbowed him in the stomach and tugged him forward, forcing Dumbledore to keep walking. Harry and Voldemort followed them at a sedate pace. Bellatrix had already gone up the corridor, skipping and laughing, in the lead of the procession.

"Oh," Bellatrix sighed as she turned around to look at Harry. "What a party. I was so glad to be invited."

"It was what you did best," Harry said in reference to her habit of torturing people to insanity.

Dumbledore suddenly froze at the sound of Harry's voice. He spun around, knocking Nott to the floor. He looked for one moment like the man he used to be, fierce and proud and dangerous. His finger was pointed at Harry and he glared. "Crucio, Crucio, Crucio," of course nothing happened, and suddenly Dumbledore's mouth trembled and fat tears leaked from the corners of his dull blue eyes. "Your fault, all your fault." He hissed at Harry, looking no more dangerous than a child throwing a tantrum. Harry flinched back nonetheless.

"No, it's your fault." Harry whispered before nodding at Nott and Goyle. The two men carried on dragging him down the corridor. Harry watched them go, with Bellatrix still leading merrily. But neither he nor Voldemort made any move to go with them.

"Does it make it any better?" The Dark Lord asked, his voice was low and so very welcome right then. Harry smiled and leant back as Voldemort moved behind him, his arms wrapping around Harry's waist.

"No," he admitted shyly, turning in Voldemort's arms so they were face to face. "But it helps." He tilted his head up and Voldemort leant down to press their lips together. They stayed like that, locked together, lost in one another, for some time before they reluctantly drew apart.

Voldemort kissed his forehead and smiled softly. "It'll get better in time."

"Every one keeps saying that."

"Then it must be true." Voldemort said taking Harry's hand in his, before leading them out of the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

_XXX_

May 22nd 1996. A few hours later.

Mungo Bonham founded St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in the late 1500s or early 1600s. St. Mungo's Hospital is widely known as the primary Wizarding hospital in Britain. Located in an abandoned department store in London, the hospital's Healers treat wizards for all sorts of magic-related illnesses and injuries, and in extreme circumstances have been known to treat Muggles as well. The hospital's logo is a wand and a bone, crossed, and unsurprisingly donations are always welcome.**1**

Lucius Malfoy was one of the hospitals most generous donators. In fact it was only the year before when Lucius made a very public donation to the hospital. He had given away so much money that the old Minister had invited the entire Malfoy family to share his box with him during the Quidditch World Cup final. Though you could argue that Lucius got the raw end of the deal: giving away so much money and having to put up with Cornelius Fudge for an entire day, all in the same week.

But it was such that, when Lucius Malfoy flooed in to St Mungo's that day and demanded a room be prepared for Albus Dumbledore, no one dared to refuse him. They only asked the most necessary questions and tried to keep well out of his way.

"Sir," one Healer asked, scurrying out of the way as Lucius strode through the hall. "Which floor shall we ready?"

"The fourth floor," Lucius said curtly, "Spell damage."

"And which ward, Lord Malfoy?" A second Healer asked as they met her on the stairs.

Lucius gave a slight smirk, a twitch of his lips marring his impeccable mask for but a moment before he composed himself and answered. "The Janus Thickey ward." He said with an air of finality.

The two Healers looked at each other, caught in a moment of stunned silence, before the woman suddenly shouted, "ward 49!" up the stairs. Lucius heard the staff scurrying about above his head and he frowned. Some people just had no class.

The Janus Thickey ward was also known as the long residents ward. It was where you sent someone whose brain had been permanently affected by magic. Alice and Frank Longbottom were there, along with Gilderoy Lockhart (who Obliviated himself instead of Ron while Harry was in the Chamber of Secrets, before Azkaban). Lucius watched as the matron bustled up to him, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"Just because you give us money does not mean you run this hospital." She sneered. Lucius merely raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think wasting our time will be of any use to anyone?"

"I assure you, ma'am, that I am wasting no ones time but my own. That bed will be needed." As he said that a strange sort of perverse pleasure welled up inside of his chest and he had to try very hard not to chuckle at the thought of Albus Dumbledore living in this pokey little ward, surrounded by loons. "He was Portkeyed to Hogwarts this morning." That was a lie of course; he'd been in the dungeons then. "The new Headmaster is having him brought here post haste."

The matron's eyes widened with horror before she turned to the two women who were making the beds and sweeping the floors. A third was giggling at something Gilderoy said. "Hurry, hurry, that bed needs to be made ready." Lucius snorted as she ignored him completely and began rushing around the room.

"I wouldn't worry about perfection." Lucius drawled, "I doubt he'd even notice." He turned and swept out of the room, just in time to see Nott and Goyle dragging Albus up the stairs. He nodded to them both and stepped aside to let them past before he headed down the stairs and back to the ground floor. He flooed out of the hospital, through the same fireplace Dumbledore had been brought through, and when he arrived at his home he finally allowed himself to grin madly for a moment.

"That's better," he mumbled as the tingling sensation in his chest died away. It just wasn't proper to be that happy all of the time. He'd get wrinkles!

_XXX_

May 23rd 1996.

It took no time at all for everyone to learn about Dumbledore's new residence though no one could find out what happened to him. Not even Severus was informed of how far Harry had fallen in his quest for revenge, but maybe it was better that way?

This morning marked the end to what should have been Harry's fifth. Those who had taken the NEWTs and the OWLs were now free to do whatever they wanted with their time until the 30th of June when the school would close for the holidays. The other years would still have class for the next month, but what should have been Harry's classmates were no longer expected to go to class or sit at their House tables. The seventh years were not even required to remain on school grounds. If they could find a way home now, they were welcome to leave.

Though of course no body left.

Things were just too interesting at Hogwarts at the moment.

Headmaster Snape, as well as Messes. Lestrange and Lestrange were seated in the Great Hall. All three of them wore black, and their eyes were cold and their faces expressionless as they looked over the gathered students. Every child in the school had appeared. There were notably some teachers missing from the head table but no one commented on it at present. Instead they all watched and waited.

"Now that I have your attention," Severus drawled and suddenly every one fell silent. "There are a few announcements I wish to make. Each of my new rules have been met with approval by the Ministry and Minister Lenning." He raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor table as many of them started to mutter and whispered amongst themselves. It still wasn't public knowledge that Voldemort controlled the Ministry and Severus wasn't about to let anyone in on the secret. "Firstly I'm sure, being as astute as you all are," very sarcastically spoken, "that you have noticed the empty chairs among us. Those professors did not meet the requirements expected of them in order to mold and teach all you fine people." Rabastian snorted. Severus was probably being facetious.

"As such they have been replaced. Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, Sprout, Vector, and myself will remain. However, Professors Trelawney, Hagrid and Binns are no longer acting teachers within this establishment. 'Muggle Studies' is no longer available at Hogwarts and as such Professor Burbage is no longer with us. I'm sure we'll miss her very much." Rudolphus tried not to laugh at Severus' tone of voice.

"'Divination' will be taught by Alona Devlish." A tall woman entered the Hall and took a seat. "Heinrich Guttenburg has agreed to teach 'History of Magic'." A man with a mustache like Hitler nodded at the Headmasters as he sat down. "'Care of Magical Creatures' is now in the hands of Brandon Yacob." A man – well Vampire actually – that looked remarkably like Alvis, Prince of the Vladislav Vampires, entered the room. His hair was not the same shade of white but rather a very pale yellow color. He sat down with a grin, flashing his fangs at a sneering Gryffindor.

"We have decided to make several new subjects available. For Muggleborns, 'Etiquette' and 'Wizarding Customs' will be compulsory. Sarah Sanders had agreed to teach, to my pleasure," he hissed out the word and a red haired woman grinned at him. She was a Death Eater, and a friend of Narcissa's so he hadn't dared refuse her the job. "'Dark Arts' is now mandatory up until OWL level. Hector Gumpas is now your instructor in the art of Dark Magic." A lanky, thin man who had the look of an undertaker enterer the room. "How better to defeat your enemies than to know them?"

His face took on a pinched look as he introduced the last new member of staff. "Lastly, the 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' professor is once again Remus Lupin. Oh how we've all missed him, I'm sure."

Remus tried to smile at him, but Severus sniffed delicately and began sipping at his cup of coffee. He held the cup in front of his face so that no one could see the way his mouth twisted into a sneer as Remus whispered 'hello' to him.

The Hall was deathly silent for a moment before noise erupted from all corners of the room. Some were cheers for a favored Professor, some were exclamations of disgust at the new lessons, some were fearful whispers about the vampire and werewolf on staff, some were dark mutterings about Death Eater teachers, but all of them were loudly annoying. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, massaged his temple and drank more coffee. Why, oh why, did he ever choose to work with children?

Sometimes, he thought, it wasn't worth getting up in the mornings.

_XXX_

June 27th 1996.

It was the anniversary of Harry's being imprisoned in Azkaban. Three full years ago, Ginny Weasley had died, and Harry had been dragged to Azkaban prison, innocent and terrified. It had been a month and five days since Dumbledore had been taken to the Janus Thickey ward.

The Healers had tried to cure him but of course they failed. They put him in the same room as Alice and Frank Longbottom, because after all their cases were so similar. Now, Frank was practically catatonic. He didn't move around, he didn't speak and he didn't seem to notice Dumbledore's presence. Alice was a little more lucid. She had stared at Albus as he was brought into the room, as he was taken out of the room for tests, and she had frowned at him as he was brought back into the room.

She knew she should know him, but it wasn't likely she would remember him. She didn't know her own name for Merlin's sake. But she _knew_ this man somehow.

Dumbledore seemed to know Alice as well. They had been eating sweets and he walked over to her and handed her the wrapper. "For Harry," he whispered as if Alice was in the position to give it to him.

"For Harry?" Alice asked quietly peering at the wrapper with curiosity. But Dumbledore had gone back to bed. When she fell asleep she had awful dreams filled with red light and screaming. Such screaming, so loud and constant like music. It was like a drawn out, pain filled song, and Alice clutched at her ears in her sleep, trying to block out the sounds.

When she woke, she knew what she had to do to make the screaming stop. Slowly, she walked across the room, a pillow held limply in one hand and the sweet wrapper in the other hand. As Albus Dumbledore slept, Alice held the pillow over his face and pressed down hard.

He woke and he thrashed, but somehow Alice kept her grip on the pillow. The entire time she kept whispering, 'for Harry', but she didn't know who Harry was and she didn't know how to ask. Dumbledore eventually fell limp and still, no longer breathing. Alice left the wrapper by his face, on the pillow, and she went back to bed.

The matron found them the next morning. Albus lying dead in the bed, with a pillow on his face, and Alice, in a bed with no pillow. It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened, but no one could even try and guess why it happened. After all the Longbottoms had been firm supporters of Albus Dumbledore. They just supposed it was one of those things that crazy people did sometimes.

Harry had chuckled darkly, and called it Karma.

"Divine retribution," Bellatrix had argued, grinning gleefully.

_XXX_

June 30th 1996.

Hogwarts was officially closed for the summer and the train had left the Hogsmeade station. As it drew to a stop at Platform 9 and ¾ his parents met Draco, but Harry was nowhere in sight.

"We're going to see him now." A house elf appeared as Lucius clicked his fingers and then disappeared with Draco's luggage. "Come, we don't want to be late."

Harry had been re-enrolled at Hogwarts for the next year, and he was scheduled to take his OWLs at the Ministry building in the middle of August. Voldemort had hired private tutors to help Harry catch up, not trusting some of the Hogwarts staff to do their best by the Boy-Who-Sided-With-Voldemort-Against-The-Light (as he was sometimes known behind his back). The papers had found out about Voldemort controlling the Ministry through Alfred Lenning, but no one had done a thing about it because Lenning was doing a rather good job of being Minister. And anyway that information wasn't as startling as the fact that Harry Potter was shagging the Dark Lord. Now, that was a topic that sold papers.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked as his parents took hold of one of his hands each.

"Godric's Hollow." Narcissa whispered. Lucius apparated the three of them to the small town.

They landed in the centre of the village, which was a square with a post office, a pub, and a church with a graveyard behind it. In the middle of the square was a war memorial, which, upon closer inspection by the three wizards, transformed before their eyes into a statue of James, Lily, and young Harry Potter. It was a monument to their final stand. The graveyard behind the church where the Malfoys were headed had a kissing gate at the front. It is the final resting place of Ignotus Peverell, Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore, as well as James and Lily Potter.**1** They were here today to lay one more person to rest.

An overgrown path led away from the square towards a short row of homely cottages. Draco looked back and frowned at one in particular. "Why is that one so dilapidated?" He asked with a sneer.

"That's where the Potters died, dear." Narcissa said softly, and Draco's mouth made a little 'o' of surprise.

They followed the slightly tidier path towards the church, and then around the building to the back. The pushed open the gates and nodded at the small solemn crowd that had gathered.

A few folding chairs had been spread out, and most of them were occupied. Draco left his parents' side and made his way to the front of the crowd, drawing Harry into a tight hug. "I've missed you, brother." Harry didn't answer. Instead he pressed his face against Draco's shoulder and fought back the tears. "Love you."

"Love you too," Harry whispered and was rather relieved to see that Voldemort didn't so much at glare in Draco's direction.

"What's going on? Oh." His eyes had landed on the small headstone, at the end of a long row. Mentally, he read off all of the names he could see. Kendra Dumbledore, Ariana Dumbledore, Bathilda Bagshot, Lily Potter, James Potter – Tom Riddle. "Oh Harry," he whispered as he pulled the boy into another hug.

There wasn't a grave for Tom, but Harry had left a small urn on the ground in front of the headstone. Instead of ashes, he had placed the two halves of his own holly and phoenix feather wand inside of the urn. A ring of roses and lily's lay around the urn, hugging it tightly on the cold ground. The headstone read, "to the memory of Tom Riddle. As much as I loved you, nothing lasts forever. Rest in peace." Followed by his date of birth and death.

Remus and Sirius, Bellatrix and the two male Lestranges, the Malfoys, Voldemort, Harry and Hermione Granger remained there for the rest of the night. They stood silently and bravely and watched in relief, as Harry didn't break down this time.

Harry bent to pick up the urn, and he reached inside to grab a one half of his broken wand. He put the urn back inside the ring of flowers and cast a spell on the wood so it burnt and turned to ashes. He threw his hand out towards the headstone and he smiled as the wind picked up suddenly and carried the ashes far beyond where he had expected them to reach. Unlike in his dreams the ashes didn't fall on him and stick to his skin, weighing him down with guilt and horror. This time, they floated free in the wind, much like Harry hoped Tom's spirit was doing. The brunette smiled softly, slowly, but it wasn't a sad smile. Nor did he feel the overwhelming urge to sob as he did during the months after Tom's death. Happy green eyes looked over to meet Voldemort's red one, and Harry smiled again, wider; eyes full of love and happiness and the relief that only accompanies finding the time to finally being able to say 'goodbye'.

Maybe everyone had been right? Maybe things really did get better in time.

**XXX**

**The End**

**1** – some of this paragraph was taken from the HP Lexicon.

I wish to thank each of those people who left a review (though, also, thanks to those who read and didn't review) but seriously, to those that reviewed throughout the story, this chapter is dedicated to all of you guys. I hope you liked it as much as I did.

Ah, divine retribution. Who else thought it was fitting?

READ THIS PLEASE. I was thinking, maybe I could do one-shots about the relationships Harry has with different people? Things that weren't covered in the fiction – like Severus talking to Harry about Lily, Harry being introduced to Fenrir's pack, Draco bringing Harry to Malfoy Manor as his 'brother' instead of his friends, etc. If anyone does want me to do so, they will be posted at this URL. If you'd like to offer suggestions, leave it in a review and I'll see what I can do. Thanks.


End file.
